Against the World
by phiazombie
Summary: A new take on the infamous romance. Harley and Jack were high school sweethearts until an unfortunate event separates them. Several years later, their lives collide once more. Mostly influenced from TDK, while also drawing from Gotham and the comics. Rated M for language, violence, and sexual content. Joker/Harley Quinn
1. Pilot

Disclaimer: I own no characters yadda yadda

If you read Chaotic Lullaby, that inspired/is connected to this.

anyway this is my take on Harley and the Joker. I always saw Harley as an independent person with a need for something else in her life and I dont like the joker as a complete psycho that only sees harley as his sexy sidekick...so yeah...anyway I usually visualize the Dark Night Joker as my joker but I will be putting my own spin and whatever...ok done with rant comment thing...please R&R...let me know you like it...already working on a next chapter...

thanks

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The girl lay on the wet asphalt, blinking up at many stars above. She could pick out the Big and Little Dipper, the only constellations she could ever remember. Astronomy was something that always fascinated her, yet she never got into it. Her know-how on the stars would always be limited to a middle school science book.

Smells of gasoline and construction reached her nose and she wondered where she was. She could see the night sky above her so she had to be outside. She knew she was laying on something hard and parts of her body were wet, she couldn't tell with what. A yellow cloud slowly rose into the air from the corner of her vision. She turned her head to see an explosion erupting from a building. A connecting building was already crumbling to ground, fire consuming it. Everything was moving in slow motion. She saw people running away from the fire, screams on their faces. She saw a man completely on fire waving his arms and trying to escape what already had consumed him. The man ran a few more steps before falling over, flailing until he existed no more.

She couldn't remember why everything was on fire. The smoke was getting to her and she started to cough. Sounds in the distance of sirens hit her ears before the screams. Then someone was shaking her. She turned her face to the stars again but instead saw a fireman with his hands shaking her shoulders. She tried to push his arms away. She just wanted to see the stars and he was in the way.

Why was he there?

The fireman yelled something at the girl but all she saw was his mouth moving. She wanted to tell him to go away. She tried to speak but a coughing fit hit her once she opened her mouth. With every cough she felt weaker and weaker. The fireman yelled something again but her vision was fading. She saw his arms reaching towards her again, picking her up. She wanted to struggle but couldn't move.

 _It's okay. Give in._

Why should I?

 _It's okay. Give in._

Who are you?

 _Don't worry. Give in._

She couldn't argue any more. She was out.

"Harleen? Wake up Ms. Harleen." Someone nudged the girl and she shot up in her seat.

"I'm here!" She nearly yelled. People around her giggled and she blushed, biting her lip.

"Yes, I see that. Do you think you can manage to stay awake for the remainder of class or should I give you a pass to the office?" her teacher, Mr. Robson, said. He stood at the front of the class, some diagram on the board behind him. He had on an orange plaid suit that begged for the seventies to come back. His hair might as well had been left in that decade since he was balding profusely. His glasses were 3 inches thick and his tolerance for sleeping in class was nonexistent.

"That won't be necessary sir." She said. Mr. Robson huffed and returned to his lecture. The girl frowned, leaning her head on her hand. She watched the clock until the bell rang and quickly slipped out the door.

She hated school. She didn't actually hate learning. She loved science and history and books but she hated all her teachers, who, in return, didn't like her much either. Most of her classmates were total strangers to her. People knew she didn't live a glamorous life and didn't treat her any different than her family.

The girl skipped home. Her favorite part of the day was leaving that god forsaking school. The few minutes she had to herself before walking through her front door made her feel like a normal human being. But it never lasted long enough.

She opened the screen door hoping the old trailer was empty. It wasn't. Her father sat in a trashed recliner, sipping a beer and flipping through low quality channels. He looked her up and down before returning his eyes to the television.

"How was…uh…school kiddo?" he said and took a sip from his beer can.

"Fine." She said and walked past him to her room. He always asked her this, even if she came home on a Saturday. It could be midnight and he would still ask how school was. She knew her father cared; he just wasn't all there.


	2. White Lights and Bus Rides

Aha! A longer chapter...I had to stop myself before I wrote too many pages...anyway this is the infamous first meeting if you cant tell!

I'm sorry about skipping around so much...I think i do it for effect...at some point the past and the present WILL meet up and it will be awesome. But for now...more back story. R&R :)

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"Mommy where's daddy?" a little blond girl asked. A young woman with thick dark brown hair that fell down her back got down on her knees.

"He's at the store, remember honey?" the woman responded, a smile brightening her face as the little girl looked at her. The woman took a handful of the little girl's hair and put it into a ponytail. She did the same with the remainder of her hair.

"Pigtails!" the little girl squealed and reached for her mother. The woman grinned and picked up her child.

"Mommy when I get older can I help Daddy with his store?" the little girl asked.

"Of course honey! I'm sure your father would love that." The little girl squealed once more and the woman laughed.

"Do you know how much I love you?" the mother said bouncing the girl in her arms.

"Lots and lots?" the little girl asked giggling.

"I love you lots and lots, Harley." She replied and her daughter wrapped her little arms around her mother.

"I love you lots and lots too, Mommy."

Bright lights. Bright lights and disinfectant. She figured she was in a hospital before she opened her eyes. One eye popped open and immediately she regretted it. She smashed her eyelid closed but the white light had already burned her eye.

Harley groaned and slowly opened both her eyes this time. A window to her right overlooked more hospital buildings and distant city skyscrapers. She was wearing one of those stiff hospital gowns and tubes were crawling out from her wrist and forearm.

"Ew." She murmured and tried to take the tubes off.

"I wouldn't do that." A gruff voice said. She looked around and realized she wasn't alone. A man was sitting in a chair several feet away. A police officer was also in the room, standing next to the closed door.

"Who are…" she started. Just then a splitting headache hit her head and she squeezed her eyes shut. She groaned again and lifted her hands to massage her temples.

The man had gotten up and was now standing beside her bed.

"We'll get a nurse in here in just a little bit." The man said. Harley squinted at the man. He was an older man, fifty maybe, with graying hair and glasses on his nose. His eyes looked like they haven't had a rest in years. She could smell stale coffee radiating from the man.

"My name is James Gordan. You can call me Jim if you'd like." A hint of a smile in his voice made Harley relax a little. If he was a cop, he didn't act like any cops she'd met…although her interaction with cops in the past hadn't been on the best of terms.

"Ha…Har..." She started.

"I know who you are Harleen Quinzel." He said. She sighed and rolled her head over to the window again. "You were quite the handful in your teen years weren't you?" he said and crossed his arms.

"I didn't…" she started to say.

"Several cases of theft, vandalism, trespassing, resisting an officer, and possession of a weapon." he stated. Harley turned her head back to 'Jim' with a glare.

"It was a fucking air soft gun." She said, her head throbbing.

"And you were using it to shoot at an officer." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Harley just sighed and turned her head back to the window.

"It's okay. I'm not here for that. As far as I know, you haven't been up to your hijinks since your teenage years." He was right though. She had been a good little girl since high school. Well…except recent events. She slowly turned her head back to the man.

"You were kidnapped?" He said, a hint of concern in his voice. Then she remembered. Events of the past months hit her like a smack in the face.

"Oh…yeah." She whispered and looked away.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Harley looked up and saw a boy pointing to the seat beside her. He was a little pale with curly locks of dirty blonde hair.

Harley stuttered. His eyes were the darkest color she had ever seen. She felt like she had been sucked into a black hole, unable to talk, breathe, or move.

The boy chuckled and sat down. Harley quickly looked away, not wanting to be sucked in again. Her mousy blond hair acted as a curtain, hiding her eyes.

"Hey blondie? You okay?" he peered around the curtain that was her hair and there were those dark eyes again.

"Uh…um." _Say something you idiot,_ she thought to herself. "Harley." She blurted out. The boy raised an eyebrow. "My…my name." She said and bit her lip.

"Jack." He said and offered his hand to her. Harley stared at his pale hand. She saw callouses and cuts decorating his skin. She quickly took his hand so she would stop staring at it. His skin was cold and warm at the same time. A minute passed and she realized she was still holding his hand in a grasp. She quickly redrew her hand and mentally smacked herself. Her cheeks flourished with redness. To her horror the boy started laughing.

"You're funny." He said, still chuckling.

"Okay shut up and listen for your name." A voice said from the front of the bus. She had forgotten she was even on a bus. A class fieldtrip to some museum, she remembered. The teacher read name after name. After an eternity, the teacher reached the only Q on the list.  
"Quinzel."

"Here!" she yelled, squeezing her lips shut. The teacher kept going. Name after name.

"Quinzel?" the boy said.

"Um…yeah that's my last name." she avoided his eyes at all cost. He erupted into endless giggles. Harley brought her knees to her chest in the seat and hid her face in her hands. _He's making fun of me,_ she thought.

"Anyone I didn't call?" the teacher boomed. Jack stopped giggling and raised his hand.

"Oh…sorry kid. Class…we have a new student. This is Jack." The teacher couldn't sound more disinterested. With that the teacher sat down and the bus started to move.

The boy returned his attention to the girl. She was curled up on the seat beside him. "Hey. What's wrong?" The boy whispered. Harley wanted to cry. She probably would have if she weren't on a bus with all her classmates. It hit him then that she was hurt.

"Oh, jeez I'm sorry Harley. I didn't mean to be mean or anything. It's just…Harley Quinzel? Harley Quinn? Harlequin?" Jack started giggling once more and clasped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said. Harley still didn't want to come out of her shell.

"You okay?" the boy asked, putting a hand on her back. When he touched her she shot her head up. Her eyes were red and puffy, even though she hadn't really cried. The boy frowned.

"I'm sorry blondie." He reached his hand out and grazed his thumb under her eye. Again she felt the cold and warm mix.


	3. Bonding' Over Hardships

This made me so happy to write...

I can't wait to uncover my big plot twist...

R&R maybe?

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 _Finally third period,_ Harley thought to herself and quickly ran into the classroom to dodge oncoming students. She darted to her seat and sat her bag down, sliding into the desk. This was her favorite class. It was a history class. The teacher was more interested in personal affairs and football scores than teaching the class so it was a study hall for the most part. But that wasn't why she was excited this time. The last time she had this class, she was on a bus with the most mysterious boy in the world. He was a new kid and in her class.

Harley kept her head down, pretending to focus on her desk. She glanced up every time someone walked in and then back to her desk when it wasn't him. She was beginning to think he wasn't coming when the bell rang. In he strolled, a minute late, with hands in his pockets, no care in the world. The teacher didn't bother to look up from his computer.

Jack stood there for a while, wondering if he should take a seat or just wait for the teacher to introduce him like every other teacher had. A couple seconds later Jack shrugged and walked towards Harley. Most the students in the room had taken up the whole left side of the room while Harley sat in her own little island far to the right. Jack took the seat directly next to Harley.

The whole field trip Jack stood next to her. They had to pay attention to a museum guide but the whole trip back they had an actual conversation. He asked her questions about school, which she answered almost delightedly.

"You aren't very social, are you?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow at Harley. Harley bit her lip and looked down. She figured he would leave right then and there to join the other kids. Normal kids.

"So what happened?" he asked, leaning on his elbow. She looked up, confused. Jack was actually interested in her story? She waited for him to say 'just kidding'. He just blinked, staring back at her.

"Um…my mom died." Harley said, looking down again. "She was the greatest person I've ever known. She got sick real fast. We didn't even know what was happening before she died." Harley felt a tear in her eye and fiercely fought it back.

"I'm sorry." Jack said. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No…it's okay." Harley responded. "It was a year ago. I was fifteen. After it happened I asked my dad if I could switch schools. Now I'm here. I just…keep to myself I guess." Jack was silent for a while.

"My dad isn't in the picture either." He said finally.

"Oh?" Harley said interested.

"When I was a little kid he was a drunk. He hit my mom a lot. Me too but it didn't bother me as much as it did to see my mom being hit. For some reason my mom stayed with him. I guess because he paid the bills." Jack stared off into space while talking.

"What happened to him?" Harley asked. Jack slowly looked up to meet Harley's eyes. She felt the lifeless black hole consume her once more.

"He drank too much I guess." Jack said quickly. "Fell over dead one day." Something about his tone was strange to Harley. She couldn't quite figure out why.

"I'm sorry." Harley whispered, still caught in his eyes.

"You have really pretty blue eyes, you know." Jack said, a smile returning to his face. Harley blinked. _What? Did he just…compliment me?_

"This is um…where I live." Harley gestured to the trailer behind her. She waited for Jack to laugh. It had been several weeks since their first meeting. They talked nearly every day now. She tried to hide the fact that she had a stupidly growing crush on Jack. Sure she had thought other guys attractive, but never had she had a real teenage crush. He was more than her crush, he was her only friend. Even if it had only been a few weeks.

Jack just smiled at Harley.

"So…yeah my dad is at the shop. Um the one I told you about?" she said awkwardly.

"Oh yeah. The general store down on Albert Street."

She smiled a little and turned to open the trailer door. There wasn't much to her home. A small living area with a ratty recliner and an old loveseat faced an outdated television set. Beside that was a little kitchen, just a fridge, stove, sink, and counter space. On the other side of the living room a door opened to a bathroom. Two other doors led to closet sized bedrooms.

"So this is it." Harley said.

"This isn't as bad as you made it sound like." Jack said eyeing Harley. Harley blushed deeply. She closed the door and set her bag down. Jack did the same. Harley looked around as if she should be doing something. Her eyes floated to Jack's black hole eyes. He was staring at her. He was taking her all in with a single glance. Harley shivered and blushed.

"Um…want something to drink?" she offered and walked to the kitchen before he could answer, distracting herself. She pulled two cups out from a cabinet. A warm breath on the back of her neck made her jump.

"You scared me." She said turning to face him. His face was very close to hers. "How'd you do that?" she whispered.

"I'm very sneaky." He whispered back. Harley couldn't help get caught in his gaze again. "You are a very beautiful girl Ms. Quinzel." Jack said, his lips curling into a smile. Harley frowned.

"No I'm not." She said looking away. A hand on her cheek pushed her focus back to his mesmerizing eyes.

"Stop doing that to yourself." He said sternly, his hand still on her face. "From the moment I first saw you I knew you were something else. I cant hold back anymore, Harley."

Jack pulled Harley into a greedy kiss. She was putty in his arms. When he finally released her, she nearly fell over. Harley grabbed the counter behind her to steady herself. She could feel her cheeks blushing like crazy. Jack's eyes were sparkling and his smile seemed to grow more and more.

Harley's mind was derailing. She didn't want to tell him he was her first kiss. He seemed to read her mind anyway.

"Harley, was that your first kiss?" He asked, grinning.

"Um…yeah." That was all Harley could spit out.

"Well here's your second." Jack said mischievously and leaned in for another.


	4. Birth of a Clown

disclaimer: I don't own _It_...or any DC characters...

I don't know why but this took forever to write. I think I confused myself writing and had to stop and rethink many times...I hope I made it clear...

Anyway this is where the whole idea of the joker even comes into play...foreshadowing? hee hee hee

Also thanks to all who have recently favorited this story! It makes me so happy and really gives me that extra push to get out of writers block :)

As always, reviews are welcomed.

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A couple months had passed and Jack was slowly introducing Harley to his lifestyle. She was hesitant at first, but Harley eventually gave in. She was enthralled in every aspect of Jack.

Little did Harley know, Jack liked to paint. Or that was what he said to Harley before showing her his work. He took her hand, guiding her down a grassy path on a hillside that led to a railroad. He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked on the train tracks. Harley saw a concrete bridge peeking through the trees.

"Where are we going?" She asked, looking over at Jack.

"A special place." He said, looking forward, a smug grin on his face. Harley wanted to know more but figured that was all she was getting.

"I found this place a little over a year ago." He said, still looking straight ahead. "No one but me knows about it." Harley felt butterflies fluttering around inside her. "Except you now." Jack smiled down at Harley, giving her lips a quick peck.

Slowly, they approached the underside of the bridge. She could make out something on the walls underneath the bridge. On closer inspection she saw large-scale murals spanning across the wall that supported the bridge. Purple, green, black, white, and red were splashed against the walls, making a modern mixture of color. In some areas a phrase was painted on the wall. Sometimes a single word. She read some of the words: _Strange, Damaged, Madness, Laughter, Smile…_

In some areas he had painted the word HA over and over.

"Wow." Harley said, taking it all in. Jack stood back, his hands in his pockets, watching Harley. She walked up to the wall, placing her fingers on the painted concrete. She dragged her fingertips across the wall. It was cold and smelled harshly of paint.

"This is amazing." Harley said quietly. She had reached the edge of the wall and dropped her hand. She saw something silver in the bushes and looked over at Jack.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing to the silver.

"Oh. Yeah." He walked over and moved twigs and leaves aside to reveal silver buckets of paint and dirty brushes. "Want to paint something?" He asked holding up a brush. Harley raised an eyebrow.

"Now?"

"Why not?" he said and handed her the brush. She looked at the dark hairs of the paintbrush for a minute. She never really tried painting. She had planned on taking art before her mother passed but afterwards, she saw no use for the hobby.

Harley opened the lid to a can, dipping the brush in the creamy paint. She stood next to the wall, brush inches from the concrete. _What do I even paint?_

She only had one thing on her mind. So that's what she painted. It took her several minutes and several exchanges of colors but when she was done she stood back next to Jack.

"What is that?" he asked, his mouth in a huge grin. Harley blushed and bit her lip nervously. "Is…is that a clown?" Jack asked, squinting as if to see it better.

"No! It's supposed to be you but you don't have that many colors…" she said trailing off. She had used white for the skin. The eyes were big and black, like the black holes that captivate her. She didn't realize until now that they were disproportional. The mouth was red, of course, but she had wanted to make him smiling, since that's what he did so often. Instead of a smile, a crooked, elongated mess took its place. She didn't know what color to use for his hair, so she settled on green. Curly green paint strokes made it seem more childish to Harley. Now that he mentioned it, it did look a little clownish.

Jack stared for a long time until he burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry. I'm really bad at this." Harley said frowning. Jack looked at Harley surprised.

"Are you kidding? It's perfect!" He said, continuing to laugh. Harley stared at Jack for a moment. She tried to figure out why it was so perfect. All she saw was a very bad attempt at a portrait.

"It's a clown. A jester. A joker!" He nearly yelled between laughs. His laughing made Harley smile but she raised an eyebrow at him anyway.

"Are you saying you're a clown now?" she asked, jokingly.

"Exactly!" he yelled. Harley burst into laughter. She had no clue what was going through his mind but his laughter and sudden realization of something Harley didn't understand just made her laugh.

Jack embraced Harley suddenly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You are a genius, Harley." Jack said, his eyes twinkling. Harley felt the butterflies in her stomach going insane.

"Please explain to me why I'm a genius." Harley said, her arms finding their way around his neck. Jack's face turned serious for a second as he thought.

"You see, when I was very young, back when…when my father was still around, he once forced me to watch that clown movie. The one with the sharp teeth, _It_ I think it was called. It scared me shitless. I was deathly afraid of clowns for forever. When my father left the picture I vowed to never be stopped by fear. Why? Because every time I saw my mom get hit, or every time I got hit, I wanted to fight back. I wanted to hit him back. I wanted to…" he stopped, looking past Harley for a moment. "Anyway, I eventually learned to get over every fear I had, clowns being one of the worst. I made myself watch that movie until it didn't bother me anymore. But the more I watched a clown, the more I learned that life was just a big joke and all I had to do was laugh. Laughter always made fear disappear. So now I laugh."

Harley thought about this for endless minutes. It explained why Jack loved to laugh so much, but also showed how he was so brave and never thought twice about anything.

She couldn't really tell, but he was changing Harley. He was slowly egging her out of her shell. The more time Harley spent with Jack, the more she opened up. She wasn't afraid to talk anymore. Best of all, she was laughing again. Maybe even more than before her mother died.

"So I guess you're my little joker now?" Harley said, a little smile forming. Jack grinned.

"I like the sound of that." He grinned and they shared a laugh. "Now come here." He said pulling her closer, greedily kissing her lips. Harley melted once more as she did every time he kissed her.

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note: if you haven't seen the movie or read the book, one of the main themes of _It_ is getting over your fears. It was intentional that the whole idea of getting over his fears was also a major factor in the movie/book. Not a coincidence. hee hee


	5. Crime Therapy

I apologize for the wait...I had no internet for a while and also threw myself into intense packing for college...

tomorrow I leave so there may be another little wait before I update again. Don't worry though! I know what to write, it's just finding the time to write...stay tuned

and thanks everyone for the favorites and what not...it really is a blessing! Reviews encouraged but not expected :P

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"Sorry about this Miss Quinzel." A young woman said, taking a seat next to Harley's hospital bed. She was young, not too much older than Harley, with heavy blue eyes that showed maturity and sleep deprivation. Her light brown hair was brought back into a messy bun that might have been neat hours ago.

"Harley. Just call me Harley. And it's okay, I understand."

Before leaving, Jim Gordan had asked if Harley would partake in a psychiatric evaluation. She didn't see why it was necessary but he insisted. They couldn't take any chances before sending her home.

"I know you haven't had the kindest past," He had said to her, "but just maybe…this could help. Plus, given your recent whereabouts, we just want to make sure you're okay."

Harley doubted that, but she agreed do to the evaluation. What harm could it do. She wondered if it would be like after her mom died. Her school had been worried about her after the death of her mother and had her attend numerous counseling sessions. In these sessions, Harley sat in a sunken couch balled up, crying. After she got past the crying phase, she would just stay silent. The school counselor would ask stupid questions as she stared at the floor or hid her eyes behind her hair. Not long after these pointless sessions started did Harley ask to switch schools.

"I'm just going to ask a few questions. Just answer normally, okay?" the young woman smiled weakly. Harley wondered what had kept this girl up all night. She wondered if she had been evaluating other people all day or maybe looking tired all the time came with a government job, assuming she worked with Jim Gordan.

Harley nodded and her eyes fell to her wrist, where the IV tube connected her to the medical world.

"Your mother died when your were still young, I see." The woman said, reading from a clipboard in her lap. "What did she die of, if you mind me asking." Harley's eyes didn't leave the IV at her wrist.

"I don't know." Harley said simply. It was the truth. Her mother had gotten sick and died within a week. One day she was perfectly fine and the next she had withered up in a hospital bed. Just like the one Harley was in now. Harley imagined the hospital gown she wore now having been worn by her mom years ago. A tear slid down her cheek before Harley had time to hold it back. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"Um…let's try something new." The woman said nervously, shifting in her seat. She scanned her clipboard for an eternity. "You had a little trouble in high school?" the woman asked, her eyes still on the paper. Her tone was more surprised, like she didn't expect this girl to have a bad side. "Few minor crimes at age seventeen. What happened then?" the woman asked, looking up at Harley now.

Harley glanced at the woman, blinking silence into the air. She sighed and let her head fall away from the woman, towards the window. The sky was overcast today. Harley liked the weather like that, halfway between good and bad weather. As if the sky couldn't make up its mind.

"I dated a guy in high school and he got me into it." Harley said simply.

"How'd you get so good at picking locks, huh?" Jack was rummaging around in his backpack with one hand and trying to hold a flashlight still with the other. Harley smirked.

"I guess I had a good teacher." She said, a smile in her voice. She was almost done with the lock when her light went away. "Hey!" she yelled in a whisper. Jack snapped his hand back over Harley, illuminating her work. Jack found what he was looking for in his backpack but Harley was too busy on the lock to wonder what it was.

 _Click._

"And we're in." Harley said, waving a hand over the lock like a model showing off a product. The door squeaked open and the two were inside. Harley stood by the door, as she usually did. She didn't care that she was the lookout, she was just happy to be helping Jack.

She leaned against the wall by the door, watching Jack make his way to the inside of the store until he became one with the darkness. She picked up a magazine off a rack next to the door and flipped through it. With the moon outside being her only light, she didn't see much. It was a home décor magazine anyway, something she didn't really care about. Next to the magazines was a small display with different flavored suckers. She picked one up and unwrapped it, sticking it in her mouth before continuing to flip through the magazine.

Meanwhile, Jack had made his way to the back of the store. He was never very interested in snagging something in particular. He liked to break in to places for the thrill of it, free merchandise was just a perk.

He reached the cash register, an older machine with big dusty buttons. He pressed the green button and the drawer popped open with a ding. "Come on. That's no fun." Jack said with a frown. He liked a challenge when it came to crime.

He didn't take all the money. He grabbed a random amount, several fives, some tens, a couple twenties, and a few ones. To the naked eye it probably didn't even looked touched. He stuffed the money into his backpack and pulled a small rectangular card from his pocket. It had been what he was searching for earlier. He held the card up to his face, a sliver of moonlight making the clown on the card seem eerie.

Since Harley's idea of him being a clown, the idea never left his mind. Jack was obsessed with the idea of clowns, jokers, and jesters.

Jack slid the card, a joker card, underneath the stack of ones. He liked the joker card. It was always included in a pack but never really used. A castaway from the rest, yet always smiling, always laughing, like it didn't even bother him to be ignored completely.

Jack closed the register and twirled down the isles like a drunk, looking for anything he could possibly want. After ten minutes of filling his backpack with random objects he headed towards the figure in the doorway, the moon making her glow.

"God, you're gorgeous." Jack said, stopping to take her all in. She wore dark skinny jeans that curved her just right. Her top was a dark color too, as was the attire of most nighttime dwellers. Her mousy blond hair fell past her shoulders and down her back, making her seem angelic.

Harley bit her lip, staring into the dark oblivion that was his eyes. Jack sauntered over to her, devouring her with just his expression. She pressed her back into the doorframe, so he was looking down at her, both of them caught in the rectangle of the frame. Her breathing was heavy, and for long seconds, that was all she heard, loud breathing and the thumping of her heart in her ears.

Jack slithered a hand behind her head, grabbing a fist of her angel-like hair. Gently he pulled her hair down, her chin lifting up towards him.

"You are mine. All mine." He said with a grin. With her head like that, it was easy for Jack to kiss her, their lips pressing together, creating a chaotic passion. He wrapped his other arm around her, his hand low on her back, pulling her to him. Harley melted into him once again, her body feeling as if it met its other half. Like a complete puzzle. He was her perfect match. And she was all his. And she wanted nothing more.


	6. Mother of Insanity

I' sorry for the long wait my lovelies. Few notes before you continue:

The reason why this took so long is that I just started college so I apologize.

Since I'm back in the academic environment, my writing will probably drastically improve, it's still me writing I promise.

I still don't own and DC characters

This chapter is extra long for you guys :]

I welcome comments :)

Thanks for the many follows and favorites, I squeal every time I see a new one :D

Lastly, if you haven't read anything by Audrey Kasm make sure you check her and her story Demolition Lovers out. It was my inspiration for Against the World. It's amazing and she's an awesome person so go send her some love! 3

And now I'm done.

* * *

Days passed before Harley was allowed to get out of bed. A nurse helped her stand up and Harley nearly tumbled to the ground after her first step. Harley felt like a toddler, learning to walk for the first time. After a few attempts, she finally was able to stand on her own. The first thing Harley did was to get a good look at her face in the mirror. She gasped and her hand flew to her face. Red scratches covered her pale white face. Harley gently caressed a mark on her cheek, feeling the scabbed roughness.

"I look like I got thrown out of a moving truck." Harley mumbled.

"If only that were the case, you'd have already left here." The nurse said with a slight frown on her face. "Will you be okay to get back in bed by yourself?" She asked. Harley nodded and the nurse quickly left. The nurse seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Could it be that she was scared of Harley? It was true that no one truly knew what events had unfolded in the past couple months, except for Harley of course. She figured the nurse had a right to be scared of her and shrugged it off.

Harley wobbled to the window of her hospital room, overlooking other hospital buildings. She could see the city skyline in the distance, poking up to say hello. She watched cars drive up and down streets like ants going to and from their hill, delivering food to their queen and then venturing out again.

* * *

"Don't talk very loud when we're in there…okay?" Jack said, nervously looking at Harley. Harley nodded. They were walking down the street in a not-so-great part of town. Worse than her trailer park community. This was the South Side, the dark and decrepit side of town that all the erudite and glamorous kind ignored. If they had it their way, the South Side would be walled off, flushed out, enslaved, or anything else too horrible to think about.

Harley knew she should be scared, what with all the horror stories she hears, but fear never came to her. Instead, she felt protected. Maybe it was Jack's hand intertwined with hers. But Harley, unbeknownst to her, felt something deeper within the South Side, something homely, comforting. She relaxed in the danger like she had grown up knowing the area.

"And don't-"

"Jack, I got it. Don't worry." Harley said giving his hand a squeeze. Jack's face was twisted into a nervous expression. She had never seen him like this. She knew this was big for him. Jack nodded hesitantly.

"Here it is." He said, stopping in front of one of the many tall dark buildings. Each building looked as if it could come crashing down any moment. Windows were broken, some covered with cardboard. The brick was covered in spray paint and bird droppings. Harley figured the building exterior had never been cleaned.

Jack led Harley into the entrance hall of the building. The wallpaper was peeling and broken tile on the ground gave way to dark concrete. There was the start of a staircase on one side of the hall and a single elevator on the other side. Further on down the hall were a couple doors Harley figured belonged to tenants.

"We have to go up to the twelfth floor so lets hope the elevator is working today." Jack mumbled, almost to himself. Harley pushed the thought of a faulty elevator out of her mind and waited for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

A sad ding interrupted the silence and the elevator door screeched open to reveal a large man, his face was dirty and he was missing several teeth. Patches of hair were missing from his nearly hairless head and the man reeked of body odor and alcohol. He wore what looked like a white undershirt, dirtied with stains and smudges.

When the man saw Jack, a creepy smile spread across his face. Harley shivered and noticed that Jack had let go of her hand, moving so he was protectively in front of her.

"Hello there Jacky-boy." The man cackled out, his voice hoarse and unclean. Jack said nothing. The man's eyes drifted towards Harley and she wanted to shrink. She wanted to become so small she could fit into Jack's pocket, hiding from the man. "And what have you got here?" the man asked, raising a hairy, unkempt eyebrow. The man stepped out of the elevator and Jack took a step back, Harley glued behind him. She felt the wall on her back and pressed her shoulders against it, trying to blend into the wall.

"Does Jacky have a little girlfriend now?" The man laughed at his own words and took another step, the elevator door closing behind him. "Does Jacky have a play toy now?" Harley felt Jack tense up. She had never seen him like this and she hated it. She didn't like the way the man was talking to him and she didn't like how he made Jack feel.

"No, of course not." The man said, showing off his grimy, tooth-missing smile. "She's way to hot for you, boy. You must be paying her!" The man let out another disgusting laugh and then looked directly at Harley. "Hey baby why don't you ditch this kid. I'll pay you double what he's paying you and show you a better time."

"Don't talk to her." Jack said, his icy voice cutting through the air. The man laughed again, ignoring Jack.

"What's the matter baby? Don't you want my money?" The man took another step towards them and stretched out his hand as if to welcome her.

Jack slapped the man's hand away in a blur, so fast Harley didn't believe it actually happened until the strict noise silenced the man's laughs.

"You've got some guts, kid." The man said, rubbing his hand. He was silent for a second, observing his hand. Without looking at Jack the man spoke again, this time a little more calmly, "Rents due, kid."

"I have another week." Jack said dryly. The man's eyes looked up at Jack as if he was contemplating what to say next.

"Is that so?" The man asked, a small smile coming back to his face. "Then I guess I'll have to take a visit to your dear mother then." The man seemed to know just how to push Jack's buttons.

"I'll have it by Friday. If you touch my mother I'll kill you in your sleep." Harley had never heard Jack talk like this. It sent shivers down her spine. She knew she should be frightened by Jack's temper but fear never came to her. Instead she felt sorry for Jack. And she felt angry at this disgusting man for saying something to rude.

The man just laughed again as if the death threat was nothing. He then turned, and began walking away from them, towards the hall of doors. Jack stood still for a second, watching the man walk away, then moved towards the elevator.

"You can't have all the pretty ladies, Jacky!" The man cackled out without turning back towards the two. The elevator door opened then and Jack quickly pulled Harley inside and away from the man.

The doors slid shut and Harley stood nervously next to Jack. A dark cloud seemed to possess Jack, his eyes looking darker than normal. Harley wanted to hug Jack, to hold him and tell him everything was alright, but something told her that wasn't a good idea.

A minute passed before Harley realized that the elevator never began moving. She looked at the panel of buttons, some broken and some taped over with numbers scribbled over them, and it occurred to her that he never hit a button.

"Um…what floor was it again?" Harley said nervously, biting her lip. Jack was giving off an aura of 'touch me and I'll rip your head off' and Harley did not want to poke the tiger.

The glaze over Jack's eyes melted away and he looked up at her.

"What?" He asked, as if he had just resurfaced from swimming in the dark depths of the ocean.

"What floor?" Harley asked again, and she gestured to the list of numbers.

"Oh. Sorry." Jack pushed the number twelve and they started to ascend.

"Where'd you go?" Harley asked curiously, hoping Jack was back to his more normal self. Jack just smirked at her and put his arm around her.

"I wont let anything happen to you, okay?" He said, whispering into her ear. Harley smiled a little, fine with that answer.

After a long and eerie ride to the twelfth floor, the door slid open once again. The hall it opened on was very similar to the ground floor, except there were more doors and instead of a wall at the other end of the hall, there was a window, covered with old cardboard. The wallpaper was a dark purple and it was chipped and torn in places. Harley tried to imagine the floor in its prime, or maybe upon opening. She pictured crisp new wallpaper and new carpet, without stains embedded into its fibers. She tried to imagine happy children running through the halls and parents chatting over wine. Something uncomfortable about these images made Harley shake the pictures from her mind. Harley grew up in a shack of a house while her parents worked overtime to make a little money. When her mom died it only got worse since they couldn't even afford their house. That's when she and her father moved to a trailer park. She was used to the feel of poverty and it didn't really bother her that much. She had a bed to sleep in and food to eat, she was going to school and now she was dating the most mysterious boy on the planet.

Jack stopped in front of the last door on the left of the hallway. The door had the shadow of where metal numbers once hung, now only black imprints in the wood.

Jack took a deep breath and opened the door. Harley followed him inside.

Harley didn't really know what to expect. Maybe, she thought, Jack lived in dirt and slept in cardboard boxes, or maybe he secretly lived in luxury. Harley doubted the latter. Either way, she never pictured this.

The door Jack led her through opened up on a small living room. There was a couch and a little coffee table in front of it with a dark rug underneath. The furniture looked old but well taken care of. There wasn't much to this room and Harley followed as Jack proceeded to the next room.

It was the kitchen. Maybe smaller than the living room, the kitchen was painted a happy yellow that needed a few touch ups. There was some counter space and a fridge, a dirty gas stove and a sink. White cabinets hung over the counters and it altogether felt very homely. In the corner of the kitchen were a small little white table and two white chairs to match. Harley never expected Jack to live somewhere with such a cute little kitchen.

But it wasn't the yellow walls or even the food cooking on the stove that caught Harley's eye. Sitting at the table was a woman looking at a newspaper. She was wearing a blue robe that went all the way to her calves. She also wore pajama bottoms and house slippers. The woman turned and stood up, she wasn't that tall, a little shorter than Harley, and Harley thought she herself was short. She had dark brown hair that was tied into a ponytail and draped over her shoulder. Her roots were graying but Harley hardly noticed. The woman's face was soft and kind. She had wrinkles but yet the woman still looked young. Her skin was pale but not as pale as Jacks. The woman smiled when she saw Harley and Harley noticed something in her smile that felt familiar. She also noticed that the woman was very beautiful, despite aging.

"You must be Harley!" the woman exclaimed and opened her arms to give Harley a hug. "I've heard so much about you!"

"Nice to finally meet you." Harley said politely, smiling gently. It was then that Harley saw the scar on the woman's face. Very faint and on the edge of her face but stretched from her forehead to her ear. Despite her beauty, the woman had a frailty to her that was undeniable. She understood now why Jack was so protective of her.

"You're the first girl my son has every brought home, did you know that?" the woman said cheerfully. Harley blushed and Jack coughed loudly.

"So what have you been cooking, mom?" Jack asked, quickly changing the subject. Harley giggled at that.

A few hours had passed and Harley started to notice the sky darkening. The three of them, or more Harley and Jack's mother, Jack didn't speak much during the whole event, had talked all through dinner about silly things. Harley was told about little things Jack did as a child and Harley would laugh. She asked Harley about her own life at home and was surprised to find that they didn't live all that differently. At one point Jack excused himself and his mother waited until he was gone to lean in towards Harley.

"You know, I initially thought the move to a different school was not a good idea for Jack. But when he came home after his first day, something was different about him. Jack's probably told you about his father…" she trailed off. "He's always been different than the other kids. He's so smart but sometimes just so serious. Yet he can always make me laugh." She smiled, reminiscence in her eyes. "After that first day," she stopped, trying to find the right words, "he came home and told me he met someone. That was all he said. But I remember thinking it strange because he seemed so happy about this person he had met. After a couple days he confessed that the person was a girl. A few days after that and he told me about you. He said you were this wonderful individual." She paused again, just smiling to herself, that familiar smile that Harley saw earlier. "Harley, I'd argue that you're the best thing to happen to my boy. The way he kept looking at you, the way he's acted in the past weeks, I think he really likes you, Harley." Harley felt her cheeks blush when she said this. Harley wanted to respond and tell his mother that she really liked Jack too, loved him even, she wanted to tell her how he was the best thing to ever happen to her too. Before she could say a word, though, Jack slipped back into the room.

"The sun is setting. I should really take Harley home before it gets too dark." Harley looked from Jack to his mother to the window. She knew it wasn't safe to be out in this part of town at night yet she wanted to stay and continue talking. She didn't want to leave Jack and his cozy little home or his kind mother.

But she knew better. Harley stood, giving his mother a hug and thanking her for everything. Jack slipped an arm around Harley's waist and they left.

* * *

P.S. I just realized that fanfic doesnt accept the spaces I put in to tell the difference of time, I'm working on that...for now that weird line will have to do. Sorry for confusion.


	7. Halloween Special

Hello readers! Happy Halloween! These chapters keep getting longer and longer! Not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing?

Anyway this is the quiet before the storm. Get ready because the next chapter is going to explode! Next chapter will be the real reason this is rated M because it will have it all-death, sex, fighting, the feels, and silly jokes. Hope that interests you! (unless it doesn't in which case I can make it boring...)

Have a safe and fun Halloween and I still graciously adore your reviews and follows and what nots.

Thanks! ~read on

* * *

The young shrink returned to Harley's hospital room the next day. Harley found out that her medical doctor thought seeing a shrink would be good for Harley, so while she was in the hospital, she had to put up with it.

She didn't really know why she was still in the hospital. As far as Harley was concerned, she had healed and could go home. But the doctors and nurses never even talked about discharge. Actually, any hospital workers that came into her room had strange attitudes: they would enter, sometimes offering Harley a greeting, ask their questions or do their tests and then leave, sometimes without even saying goodbye. It was like they were scared of her.

Harley learned that the shrink's name was Jenny Rowan. She had graduated only a year ago and was quickly put to work as an on call psychologist for the hospital. It turns out that many victims of crime and destruction liked to talk about the villains who did what they did. Whatever would bring them to justice sooner or something like that.

"How are you today, Harley?" Jenny Rowan said tiredly.

"Oh, just fine and dandy. Yourself?" Harley asked, mostly out of courtesy.

"Oh you know." The doctor said absentmindedly. She was flipping through a folder thick of papers. Harley didn't actually 'know' what the young doctor meant but didn't care enough to ask.

"Do you know if I can go home anytime soon?" Harley asked lamely, staring at the ceiling. The doctor stopped flipping through the papers and looked up at Harley, who, in turn, glanced over at the young woman.

"Uh…um…when you're better I'm sure." She said nervously and continued to sort through the papers, avoiding Harley's eyes. Harley raised an eyebrow curiously. There was something she wasn't telling her. Harley could smell a lie, she learned from the best after all.

Dr. Jenny Rowan found the paper she was looking for and took it out of the stack, scribbling words here and there on it. Harley sat in the silence, listening to the pen scratching on paper. She looked at her wrists, which had a tiny little needle-prick hole surrounded by black remnants of medical tape. They had removed the IV and Harley was eating meals normally now. Walking was still a little difficult but she managed. Part of Harley wondered why she was even still there. She could probably slip out without anyone knowing. But where would she go?

"So how are you today?" Jenny asked, finally done with her note scribbling. Harley tore away from her train of thought and looked at the shrink questioningly.

"You already asked me that."

"Oh…you're right I did. I'm sorry." The young doctor rubbed at her temples and tried to find something else to say. Harley sat patiently in her hospital bed. She tried to think about some kind of joke about the situation, the shrink being the confused one or something.

"Um…so let's talk about that boy today." Harley eyed the doctor, letting the question hang. "Sorry, the…um…the boy you dated in high school? Did I get that right?" Harley felt a shiver and memories flashed by in her mind.

"What about him?" Harley murmured and looked down at her fingers, interlocking themselves with each other.

"How did he get you into all that trouble back then?"

* * *

"You know, Harls, you don't have to do this." Jack had said the night of her first crime. It was a small task. All he proposed was to sneak into a little convenience store. He didn't say he wanted to do it for the money or for whatever goods they could get their hands on. Instead, he said it was a 'bit of fun'. Of course, Harley was a little surprised at Jack's wanting to break in to anywhere. She thought of all the normal things she should say: but it's illegal, it's wrong, they could get caught. But Jack seemed to have read her mind.

"The way I see it, laws are just rules. Rules create a caged man. Rules are meant to be tested, to be broken. No one gets anywhere by following the rules. Plus, if you follow all the rules, you miss all the fun." He flashed a devilish smile and butterflies began to fly around within Harley's stomach.

Harley tried to break her mind away from the handsome devil to think about what he had said. All her life she had done what she was told. After her mother died she hung at the ends of society, yet still following the rules. She never skipped school and never got into trouble. After her mother died, Harley just existed. And it wasn't until she met Jack did she realize this. Jack brought the life back to her. He dangled fun in front of her, not taunting, but offering. Harley was tired of merely existing. She wanted to start living.

So she became his accomplice. He taught her what he knew and they grew closer through this.

* * *

"I love Halloween." Jack said, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. Harley looked up from her homework. They had been spending the afternoon in the public library, one of the most deserted buildings of the town, which was a little town south of Gotham. Jack's dark neighborhood was on the edge of Gotham, near Blackgate. The area Harley lived was a little farther away from Blackgate but the looming prison kept prospective house buyers out, and the lower class inhabitants could never afford to leave. It was a dirty little town containing mom and pop businesses and a drug problem.

"And why is that?" Harley asked, absentmindedly.

"Because scaring people is humorous. And I love to laugh." He said staring into space. Harley smiled, picturing Jack laughing his ass off after scaring someone in a haunted house attraction. It was very fitting for him.

"Plus, dressing up in costumes? Why can't I do that everyday?" he said, that mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh? And what would you dress up as?" Harley asked. Jack smirked.

"I think I'd be a clown." Harley imagined Jack all dressed up like a circus clown. It made her laugh. "What's so funny, huh?" Jack played.

"I'm just trying to picture it." Harley said, still giggling.

"You don't think I'd be a good clown?" Jack raised an eyebrow, that familiar smile spreading across his face.

"No, I'm sure you'd be the best clown." Harley giggled some more. Jack stared into space, a thought stuck in his mind. Harley watched him think. She loved the way his eyes wandered off when he was thinking. It was like observing a black hole instead of being sucked into one. He had caught her staring numerous times and it got to the point where she didn't mind being caught guilty of staring at him.

When his thought process came to a Eureka moment his eyes snapped back to hers. She waited for him to explain what plagued his mind but instead his smile just grew into a huge grin. Harley raised an eyebrow.

"Get your stuff. Let's go." Jack said, standing up quickly and turning, heading towards the entrance. Harley sat confused for a second until she realized he was leaving. She quickly shoveled her book into her bag and threw it on her back, running to catch up with Jack.

"Where are we going?" Harley asked.

"You'll see." Jack said smirking.

A couple hours passed and Harley still hadn't gotten an answer to where their destination was. Jack led Harley to the closest bus stop. They hopped on and sat in the very last row. Harley watched Jack at every stop, wondering if that was the stop they were getting off at or not. The sun had set and the moon was casting shadows against the streets. Harley had asked numerous times where they were going but all Jack said was, "You'll see. Just wait." So she leaned her head on his shoulder and snaked her hand into his. His mind was wondering again and Harley contemplated taking a nap when the bus came to another stop.

"Okay you two, off. Last stop." The bus driver stood up and gestured to the open door.

"Come on." Jack whispered, squeezing her hand, getting up and pulling her with him. They stepped off the bus and she heard it roll away.

"Where are we?" Harley asked, looking around. They were at a strip mall in town, the one with a Vietnamese nail salon, a liquor and tobacco shop, and an outdated alterations and dry cleaning place. Some of the building space was empty, no store occupying it. She had, however, forgotten that every fall a Halloween Superstore opened up in one of the empty spaces.

"Bingo." Jack said happily and began walking towards the superstore.

"Hold on. Wait." Harley said, crossing her arms and digging her heels into the ground. "The library is like 3 miles away. Why did we ride the bus in circles for hours? We could have just walked." Jack laughed a little at this.

"Because, Harls, it was open several hours ago. Now it's closed." He said turning towards her.

"Well, we could have done something else for those several hours." Harley said. Jack laid his eyes on hers, grasping them in his gaze. Harley felt the familiar suck of his lovely black hole eyes. She felt his entire concentration zero in on her, making her want to shrink. Jack took slow and long steps towards her. He kept stepping closer until he was close enough for Harley to feel his breath on her, but all he did for a long and quiet minute was smirk.

"Oh? And what did you have in mind?" He asked, his smirk and mischievous tone made Harley squirm inside. He was inches from her, his lips so close, so fucking close. She wanted so badly to just meet his lips, feel them once more take her willpower away and melt into his arms. But she couldn't let it happen, not yet. Their private affairs had become more and more intense, and every time, Harley felt herself slipping deeper and deeper into his grasp. She knew she, at some point, wouldn't be able to say no anymore, but she wasn't ready. Not yet. So she kept putting it off. She tried to avoid any situation that would leave them alone in private for a considerable amount of time. And Jack respected that. Once she said no, he backed off; he was grumpy about it, but still backed off. But they both knew this stalemate wouldn't last much longer.

Unlike a typical boy, though, Jack teased her about it every chance he got. He loved to push her buttons, poke the tiger until it snapped. But Harley wouldn't let him have that. She let him push all her buttons, all of them, but wouldn't get mad. In her mind, it was how she showed her strength. She could listen to him joke and tease and laugh all day long and would never crack.

" _You have to learn to laugh at yourself."_ He had said one day. _"Everything is easier when you add humor to it. It makes everything better, I swear."_

And so when he taunted her about this, she just smiled and tried to find the humor in it. She eventually found that it felt better to laugh at herself than to feel bad about herself.

"You know you want it." Jack whispered, that wicked smirk playing with her emotions. Harley bit her lip, glancing again from his eyes, to his lips, and back to those diabolical, black eyes.

"Just give in, Harls." He said and Harley fought for her life to break free from the hold his eyes had on her. She hadn't noticed that she had inched towards him, or possibly he inched towards her, or maybe they equally came together. Either way, his lips were barely grazing hers. She could feel his warm breath and it made her stomach twist into all kinds of knots.

Harley knew she would lose herself if she stood there any longer. Finally she broke free from the imaginary hold he had on her. She stepped back, taking a deep breath and recomposing herself. His smirk didn't leave his face, though. He wanted to see what she would do.

"The Halloween Superstore?" Harley said with her own little smile. She skipped past him towards the building, a gained victory in her pocket.

Jack stood there, half impressed, half taken aback.

 _She's going to be the death of me_ , he thought, turning to follow Harley to the superstore, _and I can't fucking wait!_

The Superstore wasn't very difficult to get into. Harley insisted on handling the lock herself to get her mind off everything. She was upset to find herself inside within a few minutes. She wished for more time in her own mind to unscramble the mess but that wasn't happening.

There wasn't an alarm or security cameras to deal with and they found the cash register empty as well. The Halloween Superstore was, after all, only there for the month. Without money there, who would want to break into the place? What was there to take, Halloween decorations?

"It's a little creepy here at night." Harley said looking at all the yard decorations of skeletons and ghouls. She had never been into the store before. Actually she hadn't celebrated Halloween since middle school. Her mother loved holidays, no matter what kind. And ever since her death, holidays just felt empty to Harley without someone to spend them with. Until now, at least. Now, Harley spent nearly all her time with Jack. Several holidays landed in the time they were together, most of them were spent at Jack's dingy apartment, laughing over stories with his mother. Sometimes the couple sat in awkward silence with Harley's father as he just nodded at the television and drank his beer, lost in his own mind.

"Boom." Jack said, jumping out from behind an isle, a hilarious looking fake gun in his hands. "Gotcha." He smiled, staring down the gun at Harley. Harley blinked and then giggled.

"Oh no! I've been hit!" Harley squealed and dramatically faked her death, sinking to her knees.

"Looks like I had the last laugh!" Jack said, a wild smile on his lips. Harley rolled her eyes and giggled, getting up from the floor. She skipped past Jack, adventuring into the many isles. She eventually found the costume racks and started sorting through them the best she could in the dark. She heard Jack making noise with little toys and decorations. He truly did act like a kid sometimes. But Harley loved it. He made her laugh and she had grown accustomed to love laughter.

"Ooo costumes." Jack said, creeping up on Harley. Harley jumped, not seeing him in the dark but then laughed when she saw his bright smile. "Find anything good?"

"Not really." She said, continuing to sort through costumes. Jack strolled over to a rack nearby and started looking through the many costumes. Harley watched him pull out costumes and put them back over and over. He pulled out a large white one piece with colorful polka dots all over it. He held it up to his body and erupted in laughter. Harley raised an eyebrow and Jack turned to face her, a repulsive clown costume held up to his body. It had colorful ruffles at the collar and cuffs and sequins glued around the polka dots. Harley erupted into giggles seeing the costume and imagining Jack wearing it, dancing around like a carnival clown.

"Um…wow." Harley said when the giggles died down.

"What? You don't like it?" Jack asked, puffing his bottom lip out to resemble a sad puppy. Harley giggled again and Jack's sad face quickly became one of humor.

"Well I think…" Jack said, looking down at the awful costume. "I think it's absolutely hideous and hilarious." His smile turned into a giant confident grin.

"I don't know…I think it doesn't quite express your sophisticated and cocky attitude." Harley said, putting her hands on her hips, trying her hardest to see pass the awful costume. Jack snorted at her comment and looked at himself in a mirror with the costume still held up to him.

"You're right. That thing is atrocious." He said and quickly put the costume up. It was then that Harley had a brilliant idea. She laughed at her own idea and Jack looked over at her, a smile on his face just from hearing someone else's laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just had a great idea." Harley said and quickly walked away from the costume racks. Jack followed behind, highly intrigued.

Harley walked past several isles, stopping between each one to figure out what each isle contained. Finally she reached the isle she was searching for. Harley almost skipped with excitement over her new idea. She quickly scoured the isle for what she was looking for.

"Your idea involves makeup?" Jack asked, looking at the many makeup kits and collections. There was one for nearly every monster thinkable. He picked up one as Harley continued to search for something. It was a vampire kit with fake blood capsules. Jack grinned, an idea involving fake blood capsules being born inside his mind.

"Aha!" Harley said and grabbed a kit with several random colors. "Okay sit down, this may take a little while." She said ripping open the kit. Jack looked at her curiously but did as she said; sitting crossed legged on the floor. She sat down in front of him and started applying white face paint all over his face. Jack had no clue what Harley was up to but trusted her and waited in silence to see what tantalizing idea she had come up with.

Harley tried to ignore his brooding eyes watching her every move. She tried to focus on his face and applying face paint to it. She knew she would have fallen under his gaze if she hadn't been occupying her mind with this task.

"Okay, close your eyes." She said and he did so. Harley felt a weight lift from her shoulders and she let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding. Without his eyes peering into her, it was a lot easier to complete her task. When she was done with his eyes she moved to the red face paint color. Harley had never really been one to adventure into makeup. For his face and eyes she used a sponge that came with the kit, but now the sponge was covered in face paint residue and she had nothing else to use. So, as most girls would without a brush or sponge, she used her finger. She rubbed the tip of her pointer finger in the greasy red face paint and then slowly raised her hand to his lips. He had opened his eyes again and was watching her closely. Harley bit her lip and rubbed her red finger across his mouth, staring intently at his lips and not his eyes. It was weird, feeling his lips with her fingers instead of her own lips. They were soft and gentle, so unlike the rest of him. Her finger lingered on them for a second and then she drew it back, rubbing her finger in the red paint again. She continued to paint over his lips and past them onto his cheeks.

When she took her finger away this time, she smiled at her accomplishment.

"Okay, go look in a mirror." Harley said and they stood up, searching for the nearest mirror. Luckily, the next isle over had a silly sunglasses stand with a sizable mirror next to it. Harley stood behind Jack as he looked himself over.

Jack didn't know quite what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this. His face was colored white, but not perfect as a professional may do it. His eyes reminded him of a raccoon, large black circles with and eye in the middle of each. His mouth was colored bright red and stretched passed the corners of his mouth upwards in a wide smile. Jack stared at his reflection for endless minutes before making a reaction.

"The one I painted had green hair but there wasn't colored hair spray over here so…" Harley trailed of, shrugging. She hoped he had seen the resemblance between the 'portrait' she did under the bridge and what she had done here.

"I love it." Jack said at first. His face then shifted from an unreadable stillness to an eerie smile that actually looked like it spread across his face with the red paint. "It's perfect." He said taking one last look before turning to face Harley. She blushed heavily and stood there soaking in her success.

Jack wrapped his arms around Harley's waist and picked her up, spinning in circles. They giggled and laughed until he slowed and let her go.

"My perfect little Harlequin." Jack said, peering down at Harley. Her stomach was doing flips and Harley blushed more at his nickname for her.

"My brave and handsome Joker." Harley said back to him, creating her own nickname for him. Jack grinned again and leaned in to kiss her. It wasn't his normal greedy kiss that Harley recognized either. It was a deep and passionate kiss that lasted forever and yet not long enough. When the kiss ended and Jack looked down at Harley he started laughing subtly.

"What?" Harley asked.

"You have face paint all over your face." He said grinning. Harley wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and felt the greasy paint. She smiled and looked back at Jack.

"And yours is all smudged." She said happily. They shared a glance and slowly leaned back in to kiss again, neither of them caring about the whereabouts of the face paint.


	8. The Special Night Part 1

**First off...I know it has been ages. I got so wrapped up in my first year of college. I actually had this finished a while ago but didn't get around to editing and publishing till after reading Audrey Kasm's recent chapter of her story.**

 **I don't want to ramble on too much but I appreciate your messages and reviews more than you know! Keep them coming!**

 **I'm reserecting my past ideas for this but by all means I love feedback.**

 **Enjoy! ~also there is sexual content in this chapter you are welcome.**

* * *

"She is a very strange case." Dr. Rowan said, pressing her eyebrows together, staring off into the distance. It is true that the young doctor hadn't received much experience, but what little she did have was based on the peculiar cases Gotham gave her.

"Strange in what way?" Commissioner Gordon asked, a calm and tired air about him. Gordon dealt with strange on a daily basis. The last thing to frighten him would be a young girl-a victim-secured in hospital room.

Dr. Rowan glanced at her notes. She had read them a million times and still didn't know how to diagnosis the situation completely.

"The girl is a total nobody as far as I know, to start off. She's lived right outside Gotham city limits her whole life. She's not on social media and only ever worked in her father's store until the incident. To our knowledge, she has no connection to the situation at all." She shifted uncomfortably. It was mid-morning and her stomach kept making faint vibrations that were due to not having a break since arriving at seven that morning. It was already mid day.

"That's information we already know, though." Gordon frowned, hoping for more.

"She doesn't talk about much other than her childhood." Dr. Rowan's lips pressed together, trying to find something in their past discussions that could be of any help. "She asked when she'd be able to go home yesterday. I'm not good at excuses." She pleaded.

"We can't let her go yet." Gordon said quickly. "Not unless we can get something, anything, from her. She's our only lead. Keep the doctors away and from her, still. We can't risk her wanting to go home since we legally can't keep her here. As long as no one tells her she's fine, she will hopefully continue to believe she's here for a reason. If we let her go, we can't watch her like this. If she tries to reach out for him or he tries to get her back for some reason, we won't be this close. I will not take that risk." Gordon took a deep breath, and tried to relax. He didn't mean to get so worked up but people were dying. He had to do whatever he could to get at least a sliver of information. "Has she said anything about the kidnapping?" Gordon asked in a calmer tone.

"Not yet. I didn't want to spring it on her if she didn't trust me first. I wanted to get to know her and possibly what might be of value to him. I need for her to trust me at least a little bit before asking about that. If she's comfortable enough with me, then maybe she might actually tell me the whole story."

"Why would she not tell you the whole story?"

"Most victims are quick to tell anyone anything that could be of use. Usually people in her situation would want to capture the bad guy as quickly as possible and therefor tell more than enough information. But she hasn't said a thing. That's why this is strange to me. This leads me to think that it may require a degree of trust before she is willing to open up, which is very plausible, or she is more than a victim." She frowned at that thought. She couldn't imagine the poor girl in the hospital room doing such horrendous acts.

"While the idea is still on the table, I don't think it's true." Gordon said, giving a faint smile. "Girls aren't his style. All his hired work has been men to do the heavy lifting. Expendable men, all hired on their own will. The few times he has kidnapped anyone, they end up dead on our front door pretty much the day afterwards. I don't think she's an accessory but there is something to her, or else she wouldn't be here." Dr. Rowan nodded assuring. "I'll bring up the kidnapping in our next meeting, commissioner." She said hopeful.

"That's good." Gordon responded. "What else have you learned about her?"

"Well…she has shown signs for an addictive personality." The shrink said scanning her notes for the words she had already memorized. "She has low self esteem, which is normal in young women, but that's not all. She is pretty isolated as a person. She spent her days working at her father's shop, caring for him at night. She didn't have any close friends but did spend her weekends in downtown, getting into all sorts of trouble. The two major symptoms we look for in an addictive personality is nonconformity to social norms and a sensation seeker, or someone who tries many ways to feel a certain sensation. To put it simply, she was a weekend party girl. She explored the many dangers Gotham has in its party scene. Another strange aspect of her, though, is that she isn't a drug addict. Most party girls in her shoes are one needle away from the ER, but all her tests have come up mostly clean. She's experimented, but didn't find her sensation in drugs, yet didn't distance herself from the scene. She drinks, but I believe her father was an alcoholic, which makes it all the more easier for her to obtain an addictive personality." The doctor flipped a couple pages in her notebook, giving the commissioner a time to think about the slur of words she just said.

"Now, I know all this simply because she's told me. Most people are pretty secretive and when they spill their stories, they are covered in guilt, but not her. And yes, she could be lying, but I'm sure I could head downtown and ask around about a pretty little blonde girl who spends her weekends in bars and clubs and find some takers. If her lifestyle is not nonconformity to social norms, her attitude and personality surly are. But my question is where did all of this start? An event in her adolescence caused her to fall into a deep depression. I don't think she ever quite recovered from it" she said warily.

"What kind of event?" Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"Well she says her mother passed away, but records show the death happened when she was about fourteen and her depression and lifestyle changes didn't start until after her high school career. There's something missing here, something she's not telling me that brought out this personality. Sometimes these addictive personalities are genetic, but other times people can adopt this personality by just developing a strong connection with something or someone and when that something or someone leaves or disappears, they will try to replace the void with something that has the same or similar effect-sensation seekers. We typically see this with drug abuse. People tend to gravitate towards drugs to replace that void and then become addicted to drugs. But other cases are found in gambling, shopping, eating disorders-"

"Doctor?" Gordon stopped her quietly, holding up a hand. As much as he'd love to sit here and doze off to her ramblings of various medical works, he had a long list of other duties to attend to.

Dr. Rowan stopped talking mid sentence, mouth still open. She immediately felt embarrassed. Here she was, going on and on about her work to one of Gotham's best and busiest. "I'm so sorry! I sometimes forget when to stop talking." She said, completely flustered. Gordon gave a weak smile at the young doctor and checked his watch on instinct. When his eyes touched on his watch, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I'm so sorry doctor, but I have to get across town in twenty minutes."

"Of course." She nodded and exchanged a warm and friendly handshake with the middle aged man before he made his way to the nearest elevator.

* * *

Harley jumped at the noise of a light knocking from the screen door. Like most days, the door to Harley's small trailer home was left open, the screen door allowing the light autumn air to flow in.

"Come in." She said, not looking to see who it was. There were only few people that ever came to her household and she figured the visitor at the door was the same that frequented a lot in the past year or so.

Harley had just set a plate of food in front of her father, popping the beer can open for him and setting it on his TV dinner tray he used most every night. She had gotten used to caring after her father. As Harley grew older, her father slipped farther and farther away from reality. Everyone noticed the change after Harley's mother died. He loved his wife dearly, would have done anything for her, and they were always together. He would have killed himself to be with her again had it not been for Harley.

He had tried for a while to be there for her, but something died within Harley's father the day her mother died, a hole was left in his soul that progressively grew and grew over the years. Harley feared for his health, and did whatever she could to keep him comfortable. She began taking his shifts after school at their family store, there was never much business during the day anyway so her father mostly sat at the register in the empty store alone with his thoughts.

Jack helped too; they had spent countless afternoons discussing how they would one day rule the world and other childish talk.

Harley felt the familiar feeling of Jack's hand on the small of her back. She sunk into a calmer disposition, knowing he was near.

"Good afternoon, sir." Jack said politely towards her father. In response his lost eyes slowly glanced up at Jack and then he mumbled something neither of them could understand. Harley frowned. Her father had been speaking less and less in the past couple months. She could make out a word here or there but she feared he would stop talking altogether soon.

Jack seemed to notice her anxiety and rubbed her back a little. He leaned his head towards hers and turned his face towards the side of her head.

"I have a surprise." Jack whispered into Harley's ear, standing straight again, his hand still on her back. Harley hesitated. On any other day, she would have kissed her father on the cheek and let him be, but today she felt especially worried for him. Her father's eyes seemed to circle his plate, observing the meal for ages before he picked up the fork. Half of her tugged at her father while the rest of her pulled her towards Jack.

She bit the corner of her mouth, watching her dad slowly withering away before her.

"Have…fun." Came a mumbled and hoarse noise from the man before her. At first Harley thought she was imagining it, but the words were too real to be fake. Her father's eyes were fixed on his plate, slowly working mashed potatoes onto his fork, but the words had clearly come from him. Harley felt a smile tug at her mouth.

Harley wrapped her arms around her father from the side and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I love you, dad." She said, holding onto him longer than usual.

"Love…hrr" he trailed off.

"I know." Harley said, recognizing his familiar attempts at _Love you, Harls_ , something he always said to her growing up, even though the words never came out right anymore.

"I'll see you tonight." She said and followed Jack out the trailer house.

The sun was on its way to becoming dusk. The two hopped off a bus and walked a few blocks. Jack stopped and looked up at a four-story building with dusty windows. There was a sign in the building promoting an attorney, and another sign promoting some advertising company.

The space in which they walked into first was a very simple lobby. There were 2 elevators on one wall and a door to a private office on the other. The walls were painted a dark cream color and the floor was a simple brown carpet. Two small-framed pictures were hanging on the wall opposite the front doors. The pictures inside the frame looked like the kind of pictures that come with the frame, the kind you're supposed to remove and replace with your own picture.

Jack strolled over to the elevator and pressed the triangle that pointed up, a few seconds later the door slid open and the two were inside.

This elevator was nothing like the one in Jack's building. Harley mentally pointed out the differences this elevator had compared to the one in Jack's apartment building. Instead of stained carpet there was white tile. Instead of cracked and taped over buttons, there were untouched normal buttons and a sign over the buttons listing all the occupants the office building held, and there weren't many.

It wasn't a long ride to the top floor, given there were only four floors. The elevator door slid open to reveal a scene very similar to the ground floor. Cream colored walls with brown carpets. Where the door would be, instead was a wide window that overlooked the sad little town under Gotham's shadow.

It was getting late and the sun had begun its decent. Harley stood, admiring the swirls of colors that started grouping around the sun.

"Come on." Jack said, tugging on her arm and breaking the trance that Harley was in.

Opposite the elevator were two doors that led into what she presumed to be more private offices. In the corner, though, was another door with a red sign that read, "DO NOT ENTER".

"Don't mind if I do." Jack said smirking and pushed through the door.

"What are we doing?" Harley asked suspiciously.

"Just wait." He said, walking past the door and up a dark staircase that led to a white metal door with the words "roof" printed on it.

The roof of the building was covered in scratchy concrete and had a brick edge that kept anyone from falling off.

Jack quickly made his way to the edge, leaning over the edge and looking down. They weren't that high up at all, but it was the tallest building for a few miles and all the trees and rooftops of the sad little town were visible from there.

Harley took a second to take in her surroundings, the scratchy concrete under her shoes, the swirling colors in the sky, the peaceful quiet that came from being alone four floors up and on the roof. In the distance, Gotham's tall, shiny buildings poked out of the ground. And then there was Jack, a giddy puppy wagging his tail and letting his tongue hang out as he stood over a kingdom without a king.

"Come here." Jack said gesturing her over to the edge. Harley smiled at him and walked forward, taking his outstretched hand. He brought her into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her front with his chest to her back, both being able to gaze off the roof.

Jack wasn't always one to be romantic, most the time he was either quiet and mysterious or over talkative with jokes and remarks. There wasn't much middle ground with him, so Harley enjoyed this break of character.

They stood like that for ages, watching the sun dip into the earth and leave a trail of colors flooding the sky.

Harley couldn't tell why, but being there like that felt so right to her. She felt a weird sense of belonging and happiness, like all of the troubles with her father, money, their family shop, school, the future, all of it melted away. And so she made a snap decision in her mind that didn't phase her until way later.

"Jack?" she asked. He didn't move, just made a questioning "Hm?"

"I'm…I'm ready."

Jack didn't move. He let the silence hang in the air. For a while Harley thought she should elaborate, that he was probably confused as to what she meant. She opened her mouth again to speak but he answered instead.

"You don't have to." He said finally.

"I want to." Harley said, showing courage she didn't know she had. She honestly did want this and she couldn't hope for anyone better than Jack to do it with.

He moved then, releasing her from his embrace and letting her turn to face him. His hand slid down from where it had been on her shoulder down her arm to lock their fingers together. He searched her face, her lips, her blushing cheeks, her eyes, for anything that said no.

"Then let's go." He said, squeezing her hand and leading her away from the sunset and the roof with the scratchy concrete under their shoes.

The trip to the grimy neighborhood where Jack lived went by in a blur. Harley blocked everything out, everything but Jack. The elevator doors slid open with the familiar sad ding and Harley entered first, pressing her back against the far wall of the carpet-stained elevator. Jack smirked, sauntering into the elevator after her, his eyes pinning her to the wall. Harley bit her smiling lip playfully, looking up at him with her dusty blue eyes. The elevator was small, but the closeness between them was suffocating. Jack hit the number twelve on the number panel and his lips greedily took control. Harley almost forgot what his dominant kisses felt like after his gentle demeanor earlier.

His hands slid around her waist and slowly dropped lower, pulling her closer to him. Harley felt the heat radiating off him, giving her goose bumps. She raised her arms, naturally going to snake them around his neck, but then his hands were gone from behind her and each rough palm pressed her forearms to the wall, pinning her against the wall. He guides her arms above her head and holds both her wrists with one hand, letting his other hand now free to wonder. Harley doesn't break the kiss. She has already handed all of her control over to Jack and he more than knows it, but makes it clear there's no turning back. All those times he told her that she was his become actions in the small, dinky elevator.

Jack breaks the kiss then, leaving Harley breathing heavily and staring up into his devious, soul-sucking eyes. She feels his free hand under her chin, lightly pushing her head up, her face closer to his. She can almost feel his lips on hers again, their breathing colliding and her arms still suspended above her. She wants to lean forward and close the space but holds herself back, waiting for Jack to act. Instead, he backs away and Harley is brought back into the reality of the tiny elevator. The dull ding rings in her ears and the doors slide open on the twelfth floor. She wants to kick the doors shut and forever stay like this with Jack, but she knew something else, something better, was waiting for her down the hall.

Her wrists are freed and Jack walks backward out of the elevator, his piercing eyes not leaving hers for a second.

"My sweet little blue-eyed girl." Jack said softly, in a singsong tone that broke Harley's feet from the concrete they were stuck in. She felt her knees bend and her feet take steps towards the beautiful devil before her.

This was it. This was the point of no return. Harley couldn't help but feel like a child being coaxed out of her innocence. Yet not one ounce of her wanted to run away. If this was corruption, she wanted to embrace it.

Jack held the door open for Harley, ushering her into his home. His smile was stretched across his face and his eyes held fires brimming with excitement.

"Where's your mom?" Harley said curiously, entering the familiar apartment as she had so many times before. The door shut and his hands were on her shoulders, his voice in her ear.

"She has to work late tonight." He whispered. Harley felt like a damsel in distress, kidnapped by a devilishly handsome man. But in this fairy tale, she was there on her own will. She would hold up no fight.

Jack surprised Harley by swooping her up in his arms with one quick motion. Harley giggled and bounced with every step Jack took towards his room. Her arms held on tight around his neck and she buried her laughing face in his chest. She could feel the vibrations in his chest of his own laughs.

He kicked the door closed behind him and dropped Harley onto his bed. His room was filled with doodles and paintings taped to the wall, most of which Harley recognized as Jack's own style.

Harley bounced on the small, full-sized mattress, still giggling like a little girl on Christmas morning. She drowned out the nervousness biting at her insides and put all her focus on him.

"Do you trust me?" Jack asked, standing over her. The moon was already casting a gloomy light through the little window in the room, lighting up half of Jack's face as he peered down at her. His dark eyes stood out and grabbed at her from the moonlight and the shadows.

Harley's giggles ceased and she sat still on the bed, caught in his glare. An eternity passed and she nodded slowly.

"Good." Jack said, his lips curling into his mischievous smile. He put his thumb under her chin, and lifted her face. For a second his face changed. Instead of a smirking devil she saw a genuinely caring expression.

"Always be my girl." Jack said, almost in a whisper. Harley wasn't sure if it was a comment or a question but then his face quickly returned to lust-filled mischief and his lips were crashing into hers.

He pushed her back onto the bed with his own body and her arms crawled around his neck. Harley's fingers found a hole in the back of his t-shirt and she absentmindedly began to play with the hole. Jack broke the kiss and sat up, laughing almost. He didn't say anything though, just grabbed at the front of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it on the floor. His lips found hers again and Harley felt a cold hand playing with her sides. His hands pushed up her shirt and rested on the skin of her waist. She shivered against his cold hand but then found warmth past the striking cold. His hand slowly slid upwards until it found the edge of her bra. Slowly his fingers traveled up the outside of the bra and cupped her breast. His fingertips curved over the top of the bra, wanting inside. She felt his cold hands again, but this time her skin was more sensitive.

Harley learned to embrace her urges when she was with Jack. The shy little girl who he first met was long forgotten when she was with him. Many times before they had gotten sexual. They made out, got touchy, very touchy sometimes, but this was new water for Harley. She felt as if she hadn't touched a boy ever before in this instance. The overwhelming feeling of having sex for the first time dangled over her head and made her nervous.

Jack slipped his hand from under the front of her shirt and to the hook in the back. With a few tries, her bra came loose and she slowly pulled it off with her shirt. Harley noticed Jack's grin in the moonlight, looking down at her and her bare chest. She felt exposed, naked, literally and figuratively. But then his hands were on her again and a familiar closeness sunk in.

A finger circled her sensitive nipple, making Harley bite her lip in response.

"None of that." Jack said and kissed the corner of her mouth, making her release her bottom lip. Jack lightly tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, trapping it while he lightly pinched her nipple. A noise escaped her and he released her lip.

"That's what I want to hear." He said, smirking.

He pinched her nipple again, a little bit harder this time, and she responded with another little noise.

Then his lips were surrounding the other nipple, sucking and swirling while the other received light tugging and pinching.

Harley gasped at this sudden change and forgot for a moment why she was nervous. A craving began to take form inside her and she blocked out any hesitant feelings with the thought of wanting more. As if on cue, his lips left her chest and trailed down the center of her rib cage and down her stomach to the edge of her jeans. He took his time with the zipper, making her crave it more and more.

He hooked his fingers on the sides of her jeans and began to pull them down, slowly, ever so slowly. Harley pulled her legs out of her jeans and her underwear that came off with it anxiously, which made Jack smirk. He had her right where he wanted her.

His fingers moved to her most sensitive area, sliding up and down her entrance and circling her clit before slowly pushing into her. Harley whimpered at the remarkably slow pace and Jack's smirk grew wider. With two fingers he slid in and out of her tightness, gaining speed but at a pace that had her cringing.

A warm wetness made Harley gasp-his tongue began circling her clit. His fingers kept their speed as he sucked and licked at her most sensitive area.

And then he stopped. He could tell she was getting close and that would ruin everything.

Confused and bewildered, Harley looked around to realize why he had stopped. Jack was fumbling with his own zipper while another hand dug in his pocket for something.

With his pants undone, Jack retrieved a stiff square package from his pocket. A mini hysteria began in Harley's head when she realized this was actually happening. But for some reason she was able to easily shush it this time. She wanted this, she wanted him, and tonight would be the night.

He fumbled with the condom and finally ripped it open. Harley couldn't help but giggle. In this moment he was so utterly human. Messing with a condom was the last thing she would picture Jack doing and here he was, struggling like any other teenage boy.

Jack looked up when she began to giggle and raised an eyebrow.

"You're not backing out on me now are you?" he said with that devilish smile she loved so much. Harley smiled and shook her head. She wanted him too much in this moment to have everything end now.

The whole experience was a little awkward. They moved like children, trying to keep the heat and passion going while still getting past the embarrassing 'doing this for the first time' movements.

Jack entered her slowly and Harley gritted her teeth, trying to relax but wanting to get it over with at the same time. She knew the first time would be the worst, but without pain there is no pleasure.

"Relaaxx." Jack said in a comforting whisper. Harley breathed deep breaths, experiencing everything for the first time.

Once inside her, he moved back and forth slowly. Harley started to get an understanding of why people liked having sex so much. Yes, it hurt, but it was something she could get past. Something she knew would go away. There was this feeling under the first-time nerves and pain that had her wanting more. So much more.

Harley pressed her lips together and tried to focus on her body and his. Jack leaned over her, holding himself up in a push up position while she wrapped her legs around him. With every deep breath, Harley began to experience less pain and more pleasure.

They moved together, as one, engulfed in a new overpowering passion. And Harley felt wild and crazy yet powerful and strong. She felt completely right yet skating on dangerous borders at the same time. It was a rush for her.

And then Jack became stiff over Harley. His loud and heavy breathing that clashed with hers ceased. And then he collapsed on top of Harley, breathing heavily again. Harley wrapped her arms around him, her legs still around him as well. She clung to him like a child and flourished in the noises, smells, and warmth he produced.

They both lay like that for a while; stuck together in each other's sweat, their eyes closed while they processed everything.

After what felt like eternities, Jack rolled off of Harley and disposed of the used condom before his arms were around her and they lay there together, listening to each other's breathing, naked in each other's warmth in the dirty little apartment.


	9. Cuts Become Scars (Special Night Part 2)

Ch. 9

Harley had her head resting on Jack's shoulder, her fingers tracing circles on his chest, watching it rise and fall in the moonlight. It must have been two or three in the morning but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to stay this way forever, wrapped up next to Jack.

He, on the other hand, had different ideas. Jack was fast asleep, his mind filled with diabolical dreams.

Harley had put on Jack's t-shirt as well as her underwear. She had this awful fear of Jack's mom walking in and seeing her naked. Jack however didn't care, as this was his house. He did put his underwear back on though.

A siren wailed in the distance and Jack shifted in his sleep. His eyes fluttered and he looked around before relaxing and wrapping his arm around Harley.

"Not tired?" Jack asked, yawning.

"Nah." Harley replied. She was more or less wide-awake. How could she sleep on the best night of her life, next to her favorite person in the world?

Jack smirked and shifted his eyes to the ceiling. "What time is it?" Jack wondered aloud. Harley glanced out the window at the moon up in the sky. "Past midnight for sure," she said. "Maybe two or three in the morning?"

Jack's eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. "Did you hear my mom come in?" he asked. Harley thought about the silence-filled past hours.

"No, I don't think so."

Jack laid still for a while then pulled the blanket away and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled his hand through his dirty blonde hair. Harley thought his hair looked like beautiful angelic blonde hair speckled with strips and strands of dirt, like the hair of a fallen angel. It suited him.

Jack stood up and shuffled out of his room.

Harley let out a breath and fell back on the bed. She couldn't wait for another night like this to happen. She figured things would be different. She figured their relationship took on a new maturity and with it both of them would mature in a way. But she couldn't picture either of them as real adults. She tried though. She tried imagining Jack with a suit on, his hair combed back and his killer grin. She tried imagining him on the way to business meetings in Gotham City or sitting down at a nice restaurant for dinner.

Harley smirked at this idea. It looked wrong in her head. It didn't only look wrong to Harley, but it didn't suit him. She couldn't imagine Jack being happy doing anything but hijinks and messing with people and just laughing at everything. She loved his sense of humor. It could have been what she was most attracted to.

Jack's feet took him to the kitchen and he slumped over in front of the oven, his eyes finding the digital-green numbers on the oven clock. _2:38_. He cocked his head at the oven clock and looked around the dark kitchen.

His mom should have been back before two. She never comes home late. Being out late in this part of the city was dangerous for anyone. His mom usually took a subway to the corner and basically ran from there to the building every night.

Slowly, a sound came to Jack's ear. It sounded like thumping, like someone stomping repeatedly or someone maybe clapping?

The sound got louder. And then it was outside his door. The door to his apartment burst open and shut just as quickly as it had opened. Heavy breathing from the other room was the next sound he heard and then that thumping sound again. Getting louder, quicker. Jack opened the closest drawer and grabbed the sharpest knife inside, which happened to be a small paring knife.

A wall hid the small kitchen from the front door of the apartment so Jack was hidden from whoever was in the next room. But he knew who it was. It was his mother. Jack knew it was her. He could tell by her breathing and the sound her feet made when they stepped away from the front door slowly.

His mother's heavy breathing began to slow down as she figured she was safe. Jack crept to the wall, pressing his body against it, ready to pop out into the other room. The sound of the thumping got louder, as did his mothers. But this time it wasn't just one set of footsteps, and they definitely belonged to someone heavier.

The stomping noise slowed all of a sudden and came to a halt outside the door. For the longest second, everything was quiet. There were no police sirens outside, wailing like usual, no arguing from neighbors within the building, not even the soft _ding_ from the elevator, opening its doors on yet another depressing hallway. All Jack heard was the rapid breathing of his mother in the other room and it echoed in his ears like a siren.

"We know you're in there, lady." Called a gruff voice from outside. His mother didn't answer. Instead she hoped the door between her and whoever was on the other side would be her savior, keeping them separated.

And then the door broke open. Jack almost jumped at the loud noise of the door being forced open violently. Within moments he dashed out into the front room, standing in front of his mother protectively. He held up his little knife at the men. Or giants you could say. There were three of them, each one bigger than the last. The man who entered first was bald. His clothes were nice-not fancy but still not the clothes to be usually spotted in the Narrows. A slight beard was growing and his eyes carried bags that told of late nights up doing business. The next two men were more ordinary, t-shirts and jeans, scruffy hair, with broad shoulders matched with large-and-in-charge muscles. The larger of the two ordinary men had a facial scar that traveled down his cheek.

The man who looked to be in charge, the bald man, smirked at this attempt of protection. "Get them both." The man said and flicked his fingers towards Jack and his mother. The larger men in ordinary clothing moved past their boss to confront Jack. One of the men lunged at Jack, attempting a punch to the face. But Jack was fast. He ducked and caught the man off guard, swiping at the man's chest. His knife scraped the man but just enough to break skin. The man swore and stepped back as the bigger man delivered a gracious punch to Jack's side.

Jack fell to the ground and the knife from his hand. The bigger man kicked the knife away and grabbed at Jack's hair, pulling him to his feet while Jack screeched. The man held both of his arms secure behind his back. The other man, the man who Jack sliced at, came at Jack now, swearing madly. He delivered a punch to Jack's stomach and he winced. Jack looked up at the man just in time to receive a punch to the face. Jack might have fallen had it not been for the man holding him still. Jack spit blood and looked up at his attacker.

"That's all you got?!" Jack croaked and grinned, blood running down the side of his mouth. The attacking man narrowed his eyes and ran at Jack again, punching the air out of his lungs. Jack took a second to recover, breathing hoarsely, letting a mouthful of blood and spit fall out of his mouth. When he looked up at the man again his grin was bloody and bigger than ever.

"This kid is a fucking freak." Said the injured man.

"Not as freaky as your mom last night." Jack said, cackling. This seemed to tick the man off the most. He started to move in for another punch when the bald man interrupted.

"Enough." he said. His left hand was full of Jack's mother's hair. Holding her still by the scalp.

"Let her go." Jack said, struggling now, all grin and laughter gone.

"Shut the kid up." Said the bald man and looked at the other man, still radiating with anger towards Jack. "Take this." He said and shoved his mother at the man. His mother was held similarly to Jack, her arms bound behind her back in the grip of the thug.

The man who held Jack, the biggest man with the facial scar, pulled something long and metal from his side. As he brought it into view of Jack, he could see the long hunting knife come closer to his face until if was lodged, sharp side towards him, against the width of his mouth.

"The best thing about this," said the man holding the knife, "is if you talk or even move your mouth, this knife will cut into the sensitive skin of your mouth and face."

Jack felt the indent the blade was making and kept his mouth still.

"Jack!" called a voice from the other side of the room. The men turned towards the noise to see Harley standing in the doorway. Harley, wearing only her underwear and Jack's t-shirt, her mousy blonde hair falling down her shoulders.

She saw Jack being restrained, a blade pressed against the corners of his mouth. Blood was already dripping from his mouth and his left eye was puffy. She also saw his mother being held back, breathing heavily, tears running down her face.

"Hrnn, rnn awaaa!" Jack yelled, the knife cutting into his lips. Fresh blood bloomed from the cuts.

"Jack stop talking!" Harley yelled, her eyes watering.

"What do we have here?" said the bald man, striding over to Harley. Harley switched her gaze from Jack to this approaching man, her body rigid.

"A little play toy?" the bald man said, stopping before her. He lifted his hand to Harley's cheek and wiped a fallen tear from her cheek. "Don't worry. I could always use a new play toy myself." Harley locked eyes with the bald man. Suddenly Harley softened her body. She let out a breath and raised her hand to the bald man's hand, gliding her fingers down his forearm, past his wrist, and resting on his hand, still on her cheek. Taking his hand in hers, she guided his hand to her mouth, grazing his fingers with kisses, her eyes never leaving his. Then Harley extended the bald man's index finger, kissing the fingertip and letting his finger slide into her mouth. The man seemed surprised yet not about to pass this moment up.

Harley's tongue swirled around the man's finger and then she narrowed her eyes at the bald man. In the quickest motion, Harley bit down on the bald man's finger. The bald man yelled and yanked his hand from Harley, who still sunk her teeth into his finger. The bald man raised his hand and slapped Harley across the face. Hard. She fell to the ground, blood trickling from her mouth, but not her own. The bald man held his finger up to see a very good attempt at biting a finger off a man's hand. The finger was still attached but covered in blood. Harley tried to pick herself up from the floor but was met with a hard kick to the stomach.

"You bitch!" yelled the bald man, delivering several more kicks. The last thing Harley saw was Jack and his grinning face, his blood spilling out from the corners of his mouth. And then everything went black.


	10. The Wrap Up

Hiya folks!

Happy to put this little chapter out for you all!

I greatly appreciate all reviews and messages you guys give and send me!

Hope you enjoy and don't be afraid to let me know what you think!

* * *

Digital green lights flickered _4:02 am._ The black asphalt street was wet from a brief period of rain and puddles of dark water were still left in the potholes of the old road. Dark holes reflecting the darkness of the pre-dusk sky. A beat up white van pushed on through the night, dim streetlights leading the way. Dazed blue eyes opened slowly, focusing on a moving light. Vision began to clear and she saw a street in front of her, and then the windshield and dashboard of the dated van. She was moving fast in a car she didn't recognize and her head was pounding. Parts of her body ached and she started to wish she hadn't awoken.

"Where…", she started and groaned at the throbbing in her head.

"Shhhh." Someone else said.

Harley turned her head and peeked out at the driver. It was Jack. Harley relaxed, realizing who it was, and then did a double take, snapping her head back toward him. Blood covered his face, smeared and dried blood all over his cheeks and nose, fresh blood covering his mouth and staining his clothes. Small trickles of blood continued to fall out of the corners of his mouth, or where the corners of his mouth were. But Harley wasn't focused on the blood, instead she saw his eyes, blacker than ever with an abnormal focus and snare.

"Jack…" Harley said quietly. He didn't look over, his terrifying eyes locked on the road.

"Jack, how are you still conscience? You've lost a lot of blood." She said calmly. She sat in silence, waiting for an answer, looking at his blood stained clothes that would never be clean. After a minute or two Harley looked away from him, figuring she wasn't getting an answer. She watched the street from out her window, watching it move by quickly. The spot she focused on slowly got brighter and then dimmed as the van passed streetlight after streetlight.

"It's not all mine." He said simply. Harley didn't reply. She just sat there staring out the window.

"But I am a little dizzy." He added, his tone lightening.

Harley tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the bald man and the other two big men. She remembered his mouth bleeding and his mother crying. She remembered biting the man's finger and then getting kicked. That must be why her abdomen hurt so badly. She couldn't remember much more than that. She thought she had heard gunshots earlier but she couldn't be sure.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking back at Jack. His mouth was cut so rigidly and he didn't seem to even notice. His mouth didn't even look disfigured to Harley. It just looked like makeup. Red makeup.

"I know a guy by the docks. He can give us a place to stay low for a while." Harley wanted to ask about what just happened. She wanted to know about his mom and the three intruders but she didn't ask. Instead she relaxed and closed her eyes, trying to focus on her pounding headache.

It didn't take long for the van to roll up to the eerie and dimly lit docks of outer Gotham. When the van stopped in front of a dark warehouse Harley got out and found Jack spitting blood on the other side of the van. He slowly led the way into a back door and into the warehouse. Inside the warehouse was a huge empty space Harley thought big enough to fit a football field in. A metal staircase lined the wall of the warehouse to the left of the door they had entered, leading to a loft above the empty space. The loft had curtains or sheets covering the windows but a soft light could be seen coming from the loft.

Jack started climbing the stairs, limping almost. At the third step, Jack stopped, spit more blood, and yelled, "EDDY!" He then continued to climb up the stairs with much effort. Harley followed behind, an arm wrapped around her stomach. She had no idea where she was, but was in too much pain to care.

Harley could hear rustling coming from the loft. Footsteps and then the loft door swinging open.

"Jack?" A male voice asked from the top of the stairs. Harley looked up to see a young man with dusty brown hair and pretty greenish hazel eyes covered by thick-rimmed glasses. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt under a thin and faded blue robe.

"Yeah it's me." Jack said almost grumpily.

"Who's the girl?" he asked hesitantly.

"She's with me." Jack said simply and managed to reach the top of the stairs.

Harley watched as this "Eddy" came down to help Jack. Harley followed silently.

"Shit. What did you do this time?" Eddy said to Jack, seemingly unfazed by the amount of blood on Jack's clothes.

"Help her first." Jack said, limping into the loft. Harley snorted.

"I think not." Harley said, entering the loft. Jack had dropped onto a tattered couch under the curtain-covered windows. It was a very quaint living space. There was no real kitchen, but a microwave, mini-fridge, coffee maker, and single hot plate set up in the corner seemed to serve fine. To the left of the door was a little table with two folding chairs. There were a couple empty coffee mugs holding down stacks of important-looking documents spread over the tiny table. Larger stacks of paper lined the walls around the table. In the corner of the loft was a bed, made neatly, which seemed to be the only tidy thing in the apartment. The back wall of the loft, next to the bed, were several bookshelves, all filled with books and more stacks of papers. There was also a closed door that had a crooked bathroom sign hanging on the front. Other furniture around the cozy loft held more books and papers. It was actually quite a neat little set up. An ideal bachelor pad. One thing did catch Harley's eye, the only odd piece in the room: a metal table of sorts set up in the center of the room. It reminded Harley of the tables at a hospital or morgue, where bodies were operated on.

"Please don't get blood on my couch." Eddy said, but Jack didn't move. Eddy disappeared and reappeared holding a bag with a big, red plus sign on it. "At least get on the table so I can fix whatever you did this time." Eddy said, as if this was a usual thing. Eddy set up a lamp over the table while Jack stumbled onto the table stomach first. Eddy had to turn him on his back and Jack's arm fell limply off the table. Harley was there in a second, putting his arm back on the table and holding his limp hand.

"What's wrong? Is he gonna be okay?" Harley asked.

"Jesus, what the hell happened?" Eddy asked, wiping the dried blood off Jack's face to examine the wound better. This prompted Jack's wound to begin bleeding again.

Harley didn't know how to answer so she just muttered some words, "There was a knife…I think it cut his mouth…I just…I don't remember it all. Is he gonna die?" She asked worriedly.

Just then Jack spit out a long "Sshhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Of course he won't die" Eddy said in a somewhat annoyed way.

"Nothin…" Jack started again, his dark eyes slowly moving to meet hers. "Nothin kills me, babe." Harley managed a little smile while a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Shut up so I can fix this." Eddy said, flicking a syringe before inserting it into Jack's forearm. Jack smirked and then fell limp again, his eyes closing.

"Now if you want him to live, you can either do what I say or leave." Eddy said glancing at Harley over the rims of his glasses.

"Tell me what to do." Harley said, rubbing her arm across her eyes to clear her tears.

"Good now go into my bag and find my needle and thread."


	11. The End?

Ch. 11

Harley woke to a metal clang. The lights were dim and the air had a tinge of staleness. She wasn't sure what time it was but within several blinks, she started to recognize her surroundings. She was in that guy, Eddy's, place. She sat up on the tattered couch and realized a blanket was over her. She didn't remember having a blanket. She didn't even remember falling asleep. As she sat up, her stomach panged with a dull ache. She raised her shirt up to see a couple rather large and nasty looking bruises.

"Ouch." Said a voice not so far away. Harley looked up to see Eddy, the strange friend of her boyfriend that she was just meeting for the first time. His hair was fixed neatly and he held a green mug of what was presumably coffee. She dropped her shirt quickly and brought the blanket up over herself.

"Please. You're cute, I can see why he likes you, but you aren't my type goldilocks." He said, taking a sip from his mug.

"What time is it?" Harley asked. She looked around and saw the metal table a mess but with no body. "Where's J-," she started.

"Asleep." He said nodding to the bed on the other side of the room. It was the darkest corner of the room but Harley could see a figure, unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. "And around 10 in the morning."

"Morning?" Harley said to herself and looked down. Her dad would have to eat breakfast without her help. She felt guilty. This wouldn't be the first time Harley hadn't come home, in fact she had gone a couple days without returning home, but with his worsening condition, Harley was having take care of her father more and more. He didn't even work at the store anymore. Harley took on as much of her father's responsibilities as possible, groceries, bills, working at the store. She had started skipping school just to work the store to keep them afloat financially. It didn't bother her; Harley didn't like school much anyway. To Harley it was mostly students that looked down on her and teachers that couldn't care less. Instead, Harley would read books while sitting at the cash register in the store. She liked to read science books. Psychology was her favorite. And she saw Jack just about every day. If she didn't come to school, Jack snuck out after first period and met her at the store.

At school, Jack and Harley kept to themselves. They sat in the back and rarely talked to anyone but each other. Sometimes kids would pick on the pair, but Jack was quick to retaliate. He got in fights quite often.

"How is he?" Harley asked and stood up, wrapping the blanket around her. She hadn't thought about it until now, but she was still wearing Jack's shirt from the night before. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. She wasn't wearing pants, only underwear, but the shirt came down just far enough to cover her candy-striped panties. Harley didn't care anyway. Clothing was the last thing on her mind.

She slowly moved to the bed in the back corner, the blanket dragging on the floor behind her. Jack was lying on his side, eyes shut, covering his haunting eyes. Harley sat on the edge of the bed and picked up Jack's hand, holding it in hers.

Immediately she noticed the damage. Minor cuts and bruises marked his face but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Stitches lined the sides of his mouth.

"He's gonna have some pretty ugly scars." said Eddy, coming closer to Harley and his sleeping patient.

"I don't think they're that bad," Harley said softly. "He looks like he's smiling."

Eddy snorted and walked away.

It was later that day when Jack first awoke. Harley had stayed as near as possible, without annoying Eddy. He seemed to disagree with people being in his personal space, yet wouldn't let Harley move Jack until he knew Jack was better. But Harley's guilt over her father continued to eat away at her. She was afraid her dad wouldn't eat without her putting food in front of him. He needed a doctor but Harley knew she couldn't afford it. Plus, what happens if he did see a doctor? Be kept in a hospital alone, hospital bills piling up or prescribed medicine that costs an arm and a foot? Harley doubted doctors could do anything anyway. She couldn't think of losing her dad, even though she knew it was coming, a ticking time bomb that would alter her world. She had no plans for the future, for herself or her father or their store. She lived in the present, especially since Jack opened her eyes and got her mind off depression.

Eddy had stepped out when Jack woke up. Harley had been sitting on the couch, reading a book from Eddy's many bookshelves, piles, and stacks. Most of his books were medical books, Harley wasn't sure of Eddy's profession but she had guessed he is or was a med student at some point. Why else would e have so many of the texts?

There were also a lot of books on death; books from all over the world, Chinese medical texts on demons next to _American Psycho_. And then there were puzzle books and riddle solvers, the kind that you buy at a gas station before going on a road trip. Most were already filled out. After not finding a puzzle book with any of the easy-medium puzzles already filled out, Harley picked up some of the stray papers on the table. Eddy had cleaned up the few coffee mugs acting as paperweights and set the papers in separate stacks. She flipped through the papers, the first being research notes on something she couldn't pronounce. The second and third stack had a title that read "Psychosis Study (Apodemus sylvaticus) Test A and Test B". The fourth stack of papers had lists of handwritten riddles.

Harley read a couple of the riddles before returning her interest to the psychosis papers. Harley was only a few pages in when she saw a figure dart to the bathroom. She wouldn't have noticed had it been for the bathroom door slamming. She got up and ran to the door.

"Jack?" she said to the bathroom door, knocking gently. To her surprise an explosion of laughter erupted from the other side of the door. She recognized instantly that it was Jack's laughter.

"Jack? What's going on?" Harley asked and tried to open a locked door. "Jack let me in!" Harley said, getting slightly worried. The laughing continued, louder and more hysterical. Harley banged on the door. "Jack open the door!" she yelled pulling on the locked door.

In a rush, the door swung open, knocking Harley back. She gasped as Jack appeared in the doorway, blood running down his mouth from his wounds. The stitches were torn and Jack was smiling his normal, silly smile yet it wasn't his normal smile. The ends were elongated, making his smile seem more cynical than silly. The fact that blood was gushing from the corners of his mouth didn't help.

Harley's first impression was of concerned horror. She ran to the metal table and grabbed some leftover gauze from the night before. When she turned around Jack caught her wrists and held her still. Harley froze, looking into his crazy dark eyes. There was a delirious insanity more present than ever before in his eyes and Harley wasn't sure whether she felt excitement or fear. Jack had stopped laughing but kept his new grin in place, blood continuing to drip from the cuts. His shirt, one that Eddy had put on him after his fix up, was bloodied with new stains.

"D'ya like it, dollface?" Jack said, eager to hear her response.

As much as Harley wanted to escape from his grasp and run, she stood her ground. There was something different in Jack's tone and expression that seemed more than life. She envied this hysteric elation and wanted to be a part of it. She examined her boyfriend's face more, moving her gaze from his eyes to his bright red mess of a mouth. Then a thought came to mind, a memory of a time before, his crazy-beautiful face covered in clown makeup at the Halloween store, the blood creating a similar effect on his mouth as the red face paint. He looked like a clown, a very non-child friendly, psychotic, gorgeous clown.

The corners of her mouth slowly turned up and Jack began laughing again. Her smile spread, and she started to giggle, almost like Jack's laughter was infectious. Their cackling and chuckling bashed together. They gazed into each other's eyes, giggling and snickering. And then he kissed her. His face collided with hers in a rough fusion. They kissed each other with a ferocious passion that sunk them to their knees, arms all over each other, blood smearing over their faces and dripping over clothes.

It wasn't until the doorknob jiggled and the door to the loft swung open that they broke their embrace. Eddy stood there with a paper bag full of groceries in his arm, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He peered at the couple from over the rim of his glasses. His mouth hung in a permanent surprise.

Harley had Jack's blood smeared over her mouth, chin, and cheeks, as well as on her shirt, Jack's shirt to be exact, from the night before. Jack leaned back on his hands, a satiated look on his face, blood still dripping from his newly torn stitches.

Later that night, after Jack had torn his stitches twice more, Harley finally convinced Eddy to let her and Jack leave. Eddy had given Harley some worn out shorts and a T-shirt with some holes in it. When Jack asked if Eddy had another set of clothes, Eddy offered him the one thing he didn't mind getting bloody. Jack waved at Eddy before closing the warehouse door and wiping his hands on a pair of Eddy's old, hospital blue scrubs. Harley thought they looked funny, he as a nurse with a botched mouth and she as a disheveled girl in oversized and worn out men's clothing.

It wasn't until the van started moving that Harley wondered where they were going. She still hadn't asked what happened the night before, but a part of her didn't want to know.

"What now?" Harley asked, glancing over at Jack.

"Now we become rulers of the world," Jack said, a devilish grin dancing on his mouth. Harley smiled and looked out the window for a few minutes. Eventually her curiosity got the better of her and she turned her gaze back to him.

"But…where are we going?" She asked. Jack frowned and stared at the road, not wanting to answer the question. After a few seconds of silence he spoke.

"We should get out of the city, at least for a year or so. It won't take long for the coppers to shrug this case off."

"A year?" Harley said surprised. "I have to go home! I can't just leave my dad." Jack's face seemed to become angrier. His eyebrows crinkled together and his grip hardened on the steering wheel. Harley thought she heard a growl before Jack hit the breaks. The van came to a screeching stop and the two jerked forward. They had been driving down a desolate road and no one was behind them. Once they were stopped, Jack pulled the gearshift into park and turned to face Harley. He took her hands and held them up between them.

"Come with me," Jack said. Harley stared at him in disbelief and then concern.

"Of course, but where?" she asked.

"I'm going north," he said. "I have a friend a couple hours away that can put us up for a few days until we can establish ourselves somewhere. We can get some money and get a place, you and me. We can do whatever we want!"

"Jack," Harley started, "what about my dad? I can't just leave him!" She wanted to just take off and forget her little town but her father was all she had left. If not for her father, she would be orphaned. She didn't have the best life but at least she had food and somewhere to sleep, at least she had someone who loved her. She couldn't just leave her dad to waste away, to die, alone in that crummy trailer with no one, especially since she felt he was what kept her out of the foster home life. "I…I can't go," she said and she felt hot tears swell in her eyes. "I have to go home."

The van pulled into the trailer park late in the night. The two didn't talk the entire drive there and Harley didn't want to leave the van, leave him and his messed up smile and dark eyes. She had a feeling this was it. He was leaving and not coming back. Their relationship was what shaped her future thoughts and it was over. She was almost too overwhelmed to say anything.

After a minute of silence in the parked van, Harley turned to Jack and leaned in quickly, kissing him deeply. His hands crept up to the sides of her face and he kissed back, even more intensely. Harley broke the kiss and leaned back, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Don't forget me, okay?" Harley said childishly. Jack snorted and wiped the tear off her cheek.

"I couldn't even if I tried, doll face," he said with a smirk. "Don't worry. One day we will rule the world side by side."

Harley let his hands fall from her face and she opened the van door and slipped out the vehicle. She sat there and watched him drive away, his eyes captivating her for a last second through the passing driver window. With crying eyes, Harley opened the door to her home and saw her dad asleep in his chair, the TV across from him blaring a late night talk show. He stirred when Harley entered but began to snore lightly as she passed on into her room.


	12. Let Me Tell You About Crime in Gotham

Howdy Folks!

Glad to hear there are still people reading my words! Don't be afraid to message me over ideas, writing in general, or just to geek out to another person about the Gotham world!

As always, your reviews are amazing and influence me to keep writing! I've got a whole bunch more planned for ya!

In this chapter I did my research on Gotham crime syndicates so enjoy the lesson and I can't wait to further involve the gangs of Gotham into my story!

Enjoy!

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For many generations, organized crime syndicates have run Gotham. Puppeteering the politicians and running the back street deals that kept Gotham dirty and tainted. Anyone who lived under the poverty line, and everyone who lived on the main island of Gotham knew about the Families that really ran the city. It had always been this way.

The crime families of Gotham worked like any patriarchal system: the big man up at the top, less powerful men under him, and more men with even less power coming together to form a loose chain of command. However, gang wars and truces were always being started and ending.

The Italians were at the top of the chain. "The Roman Family", as it was commonly called, headed by "The Roman" himself, Carmine Falcone. Falcone is the real ruler of Gotham and everyone knew it.

The Sullivan Family, a group of Irish assassins, worked almost directly under and with the Falcone Family.

Another predominant Family and part of The Roman Family, the Maroni Family, were known enemies of the Falcone Family and wrestled frequently for power over Gotham. Their major foothold in Gotham is their strict control over the booze industry. The Maroni Family controlled any and all alcohol brought into Gotham City limits. Despite their power, the Maroni Family always came second to the Falcone Family.

The Sicilian Cosa Nostra, another member of The Roman Family, is made up of five families who more or less operated as one mafia. Stefano Mandragora orchestrates the five families: Bertinelli, Beretti, Cassamento, Inzerillo, and Galante. Their weakness is their main base of operations, which still exists in Sicily, but the Cosa Nostra has numbers and is easily the most populated crime group in Gotham.

Although their influence on Gotham has dissipated, the Sabatino Family, the last Italian crime family, is credited as being the first crime family of Gotham.

The Russian Odessa Mob, run by the Kosovs or someone always named Nicolai, were the best arms dealers in the Northern Hemisphere. While extremely powerful, the Odessa Mob kept out of the arguments of the other families, obliged to let whoever rule since they profited from everyone, no matter who's name had the most influence.

The other crime families of Gotham existed in smaller numbers but still caused a great deal of harm to Gotham.

The Romanian Ibanescu Family is a nasty and ruthless group involved in animal fighting, human trafficking, and prostitution.

The Riley Family is a small but trigger-happy group who are easily mistaken for the Sullivan's, which is the easiest way to piss off one of their members.

The Yakuza also operates within Gotham, usually staying out of the business of the other families. The Yakuza is responsible for Gotham's major heroin problem as well as several prostitution rings.

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Years passed and Harley slowly moved out of the depression of her break up into an independent adult mind. Harley always kept a smile on her face. Her outer shell was a happy-go-lucky girl who enjoyed most everything, but inside she felt a mix of emotions. Firstly, Harley felt extremely bored. Her life had dropped a sense of adventure when she stopped seeing Jack. No more late night break-ins or pranking strangers on the street. Her life was just work now. Under the boredom she felt lonely. She missed the thrill of a romance and the happiness it brought her.

As time went by, Harley matured into a beautiful young woman. Her eyes were bright blue and she loved to wear striking red lipstick.

It was with her looks that she got her first job in Gotham. It was a dinky little Italian restaurant that had a black and orange "Help Wanted" sign in the window. She had no experience waitressing but she did know how to use a register. The fat, middle-aged man who owned the joint said he wanted someone with experience but hired her anyway, saying a cute waitress may draw in customers.

She worked there for a year, wearing an oversized t-shirt and jeans to serve meatballs to random men in a diner a couple blocks from the Narrows, before excitement hit her life again.

It was late, maybe nine at night, which is far past the dinner rush. Harley had actually been sweeping the floor, preparing to close, when the bell over the door had alerted Harley to some late customers. Two large men came in and looked around, checking the place out. Harley sprung into waitress mode, forcing her face into a delighted smile.

"Hey boys. Hungry? Sit wherever you want, but I advise the third booth on the left." She said, gesturing to the booth. "The springs don't poke your butt in that one."

The man who led the other to the booth gave Harley a smile. "Thanks."

Harley let the two men sit down before walking over to greet them.

"Can I get you boys some drinks?" Harley asked the two men. The man who said thanks, a man who looked middle-aged, dark hair gelled back, greying at the roots, spoke up, "Some coffee please, little miss." Harley nodded and turned to the other man, a younger, muscular guy with dark oiled curls. He had a frown on his face and didn't look at Harley.

"Whatever he gets." Said the angry man, crossing his arms.

"Sure thing, boys." She said and bounced away to get the drinks. When Harley entered the kitchen, her boss was there flipping through letters. He was a nasty looking man but never bothered Harley. They made small talk every once in a while and he signed her checks but that was about it for their relationship.

"Customers? Now?" He said and peeked around the corner to see out into the dining room. Harley poured the coffee into two cups and set them on saucers. She picked the pair up and turned to bring them out. When she turned, she saw her boss standing there with a horrified face. He had dropped the letters in his hand and stared into thin air.

"Uh…everything okay?" Harley asked.

"They…those…that's Maroni." He stuttered. After another second, her boss snapped out of his trance and focused on Harley. "You must treat this as your most important customer yet. If he is in anyway unsatisfied, it's done-zo for me, kid."

Harley didn't quite get the big deal. She knew of the man, although this was the first time she was seeing him. He didn't look intimidating and he sure as hell didn't look like someone Harley should fear. In fact, while bringing the coffees out to the two men, Harley got excited.

She set the coffees in front of the two men. The older one, Maroni looked up at her, smiling again. "Thanks, Sweets." He said.

"Would you like any food tonight?" Harley asked.

"Let me try your tiramisu. I assume you do have tiramisu, this is an Italian joint after all, is it not?" Maroni said, raising an eyebrow at Harley.

"Of course we do. Best tiramisu for miles." She said and put a hand on her hip.

"For miles, huh? You better not be joking with me." He said, and Harley assumed he was trying to be intimidating.

"If you don't like it, you must not know good tiramisu." Harley challenged, shrugging. The angry man across from Maroni looked up at Harley, a 'what-are-you-doing' expression across his face. Maroni narrowed his eyes at Harley but kept a small smile on his lips.

"Let's see what you got, kid." He said. "One tiramisu, one fork."

Harley smiled and bounced away again. Her boss was sweating a river when she came back to the kitchen and said "One tiramisu for his majesty." Her boss looked pale but hurried away to prepare the dessert.

Not longer after, Harley was strutting back out into the dining room, one plate of tiramisu and one fork, wrapped in a napkin. She set the plate in front of the Crime Lord and placed the napkin-wrapped fork next to it.

"One tiramisu, one fork." Harley said, and sat back to watch.

Maroni raised his eyebrows and picked up the fork. In what felt like slow motion, Maroni dipped his fork into the edge of the dessert, forking up a corner piece of tiramisu. Harley waited impatiently. Maroni closed his mouth on the fork and tasted the creamy Italian treat.

"You lucky little fox." He said and smiled. He went for more with his fork. "This is some good tiramisu. And I know good tiramisu. My mama makes it. Don't go repeating this, but this here is better than my mama's." He said and continued eating. After a couple more bites he pointed his fork at Harley and said, "I like you, sweets. Let me ask you something," He said and glanced over at the man across the table from him. "Let's say some guys, we'll say for arguments sake that these guys are bad guys, these guys have stolen something from you and you want it back. What do you do, sweets?" Harley put a finger on her chin and looked away, thinking.

"Ya know, I think if someone took my stuff, I'd pretty mad. I'd probably march up to whoever took something from me and knock them right in the face, send 'em sleeping, then take my stuff back." There was a moment of silence before Maroni burst into laughter.

"This chick." Maroni said and pointed at Harley with his fork, "This chick knows how to do things the right way. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Harley." She said and gave a little smile.

"Harley. Beautiful. Harley you should come work for me. Get out of this little diner. You're going places." He said smiling.

Harley nearly jumped. Inside she was bouncing off the walls but outside she kept her cool, showing nothing but a semi-interested smile. "Sure, I guess I could use a change of scenery."

And so she stepped up in the world. Working at Maroni's restaurant, La Malvagità, was different from the old dingy diner. It was nice and well kept. The restaurant had a bar and fancy looking kitchen. Harley also got a uniform upgrade. She traded in her oversized t-shirt for a white, semi see-through shirt and a little black skirt. It was a little skimpy but her tips were amazing.

Harley began to make regulars and learned how to sweet talk men who had a buck to throw away. The other waitresses were also young, beautiful girls and they took Harley in easily. She made friends with her fellow waitresses and even joined them for a night out every once in a while.

Maroni owned two restaurants. The first restaurant, Rosalinda's, was named after Maroni's grandmother and passed on to Maroni from his father. It was a tribute from his father to his grandmother and Maroni had left everything as his father had. The food was all his grandmother's own recipes and most of the wait staff were members of the Maroni family who were either too young or too old to take part in the real family business. Maroni split his time between Rosalinda's and La Malvagità.

La Malvagità was Maroni's own invention, old school Italian food with an upscale look and beautiful waitresses. It was his "own slice of heaven" he said once, "Delicious food, great booze, and beautiful women. What more could a man want?"

Two months into working at La Malvagità, Harley witnessed her first shooting. It was a murky evening and the only diners were Maroni himself and a group of his men, who sat at the tables around him. Maroni sat in the middle booth, a circular booth that could seat upwards of eight, but usually sat empty save for the man himself. Next to him was his number two, an older man named Tony who had to duck under most door frames and ate enough Italian food to satisfy an elephant. Maroni was sipping from a tiny white espresso cup.

Outside, lighting flashed and the sky cried large tears, pouring down on Gotham and its inhabitants. A man ran into the restaurant wearing a red tracksuit, dripping wet. His dark brown hair clung to his head, water droplets hanging from each strand. He marched in and right up to Maroni's table. The men surrounding the booth raised their heads to see what he was here for. One of the men moved his hand to his waist, where his gun was hidden from sight.

"Don Maroni." The wet man said anxiously. "You're looking great tonight."

"Why are you hear, Tommy?" Maroni said, not yet looking up at the young man who looked as if he showered with his clothes on.

"Well…uh…well I was over at the Lincoln location and right as I pulls up, there was all these flashing lights, you see, and one of my men who was watching the place tolds me that the men in blue seized the location or whatever. I mean there were at least a dozens of them there."

Don Maroni set his tiny white cup down on the tiny white saucer on the table and reached into his pocket, taking out his own personal golden Beretta pistol.

"The Lincoln location. That's where my last shipment was at, correct?" The young man, Tommy stuttered before answering.

"Y-Yes Don Maroni."

"And who did I leave responsible for that, Tommy?" When Maroni said this, he picked up his pistol and looked at it admiringly.

"Um…I was in charge, Don Maroni, but listen I can-"

"So, because you were afraid of a couple boys with badges, I don't have and merchandise in the west end of Gotham?" Maroni said, rubbing a smudge on his pistol.

"I…uh…ye-…I mean, Don please, I can..." And then Maroni shot the man. He shot the man right in the middle of his sentence. The back of the red tracksuit bloomed with a shade of red darker than the suit.

Minutes before this ordeal, Harley had been in the back, waiting for the two dishes that were to be sent out to Maroni and his number two. She had heard the man come in and peeked her head in the dining room to see who it was but returned to grab the plates of eggplant parmesan when she realized he wasn't a customer. When the two plates were ready Harley grabbed one in each hand and proceeded to walk out into the dining room. Harley was a couple yards from the man when the bullet shot through him. She saw him stumble back and fall, blood beginning to spill onto the floor. Harley stopped and stared at the man on the floor. She watched his face twitch, his eyes darting around before he completely stopped moving.

"Tony, that's why I didn't go with carpet." Maroni said, putting his pistol back in his pocket. Harley thought she saw the blood drain from the man's face and grow white with death.

"Hey sweets." Maroni said, towards Harley. She looked up from the dead man on the floor to Maroni, sitting normally as if he hadn't just ended a life. Harley blinked and then unfroze, bringing the dishes to the two men.

"Enjoy." She said habitually. Maroni laughed at her amusingly.

"Look at this chick, Tony. Guy falls dead in front of her and she keeps on like nothing happened at all. That's what I call a good employee." He chuckled some more and Tony, looking rather tired, rolled his eyes and picked up a fork, digging into his food.

"Listen sweets, lean forward." He said and Harley leaned over the table towards him. Maroni took his napkin from his lap and wiped Harley's chin. When he pulled his hand away, Harley saw a red stain on the napkin.

"I didn't mean to get this mess on you, sweets. I appreciate a woman who doesn't freak at the sight of blood." Harley began to lean away but Maroni pointed his finger at her, authoritatively, and she froze.

"Hey, what just happened here?" He said, almost quizzingly.

"What are you talking about, boss?" Harley piped up, her smile returning to her face. "I just delivered your eggplant parm. Did I get your order wrong or something?" Her face lit up as if a man wasn't murdered, lying dead behind her. Maroni grinned.

"Good girl." He said and picked up his fork. "That stuff don't bother you?" he asked.

Harley shrugged. "I guess not." Some of the men surrounding the booth had gotten up and begun dragging the body away. Maroni shrugged and took a bite of his food.

"Good. I knew there was something about you I liked. Hey if you hear guns going off again, stay in the back, sweets."

"Will do, boss." She said and gave him smile before heading back to the kitchen.


	13. Thrill Seeker

Howdy Folks!

Happy fall or whatever!

I've been working hard to deliver this piping hot set of words for your eyes to indulge on.

Don't be afraid to review!

Enjoy!

* * *

"How did you end up in Gotham?" Dr. Rowan asked Harley, who was hugging her knees to her chest and staring out the window. Harley glanced at the young doctor. They were probably the same age. Harley could have gone to school and become a doctor. She liked science and dreamed about it as a kid, but didn't bother with any higher education after high school.

"I moved here after my dad's shop burned down." Harley said, shrugging and glancing back out the window. The young doctor flipped through some papers before responding.

"That's right, the store your dad owned. You worked at the store part time. What happened?" Harley shrugged again.

"One night it burnt down. It was an old building: lots of old wood and faulty wires. There was nothing left by the morning."

"It happened right after your father died, didn't it?" the young shrink asked, not looking up from her paperwork to ask the question.

Harley stiffened but kept her gaze on something moving outside the window. "Yeah." She said simply.

"Those two incidents weren't connected, were they?" Dr. Rowan asked, flipping through to a page in her notes. The police report on the burnt shop said the owner was deceased prior to the fire, but no investigation was opened into any connection between the death and the fire.

"My dad was sick. I knew he was going to die before he did." Harley said, quieter than before. The young doctor looked up when she heard Harley's tone change. She could tell this was an area Harley might not be comfortable talking about yet.

"How about a different subject?" the doctor asked sympathetically. Harley gave a light shrug. "So what did you do once you moved to Gotham?"

* * *

"Hey, do you want to come out with us tonight?" Harley looked up from tying her shoes. Shelia, a fellow waitress, was taking her hair out of a ponytail and shaking her hair out. The two of them were in the staff break room, a small room that consisted of a couch, a long mirror, a bench, and several lockers for employees.

"Sure! Where are you going?" Harley asked.

"The Poison Apple. Have you been?" Shelia asked, grabbing a duffle bag from a locker and pulling a dress from the bag.

"Isn't that one of those darker bars?" Harley asked. "I don't have anything to wear to that." Harley had been to a couple of Gotham's bars that indulged in the darker side. It wasn't that she enjoyed heavy metal music or mosh pits, but she knew it was a good place for a free drink. Plus she enjoyed places most people would consider 'dangerous'.

"Here, you can borrow this," Shelia said, handing Harley a red top. Harley put it on and found it showed her stomach. It was a tight red crop top with little sleeves that covered her biceps and exposed her shoulders. She looked in the mirror and fixed her hair, the red top and black miniskirt from her uniform didn't look bad together. It was enough to blend in anyway. She drew on some extra black eyeliner, reapplied red lips, and joined her coworkers in a taxi headed towards the Narrows.

* * *

There were four of them crammed in the back of the taxi. Shelia had a cute black bob of a haircut and liked to talk. She was telling the other two girls about a customer she had that day. Kelly, a tall girl with pale skin and straight orange hair laughed at Shelia's story.

"When did this happen?" asked Tonya, the fourth girl in the car. Tonya reminded Harley of Amazonian women, or what she assumed they would look like. She had beautiful dark skin and very short hair. She was a tough girl and Harley enjoyed working with her. The girls continued talking as Harley looked out the window, watching the buildings pass by.

"Breaking news from Gotham National Bank." Said the radio faintly from the front of the cab. The other girls continued talking, unaware of the radio. Harley wasn't entirely interested either but she listened anyway, still watching the buildings pass by out the window.

"-masked group of criminals stole thousands, maybe even millions. The number is unknown at this time." The cab drove under overpasses and streetlamps shuttered to life. The girls were talking about makeup.

"Security footage showed the perpetrators wearing clown masks-"

"What?" Harley said and snapped her head forward.

"Look there it is!" Kelly said and pointed out the window at a black brick building with green neon lights outlining the building. A big neon apple hung above the entrance with the words "Poison Apple" looking like it was dripping off the sign. There was a short line at the door and several people hanging around the side of the building smoking cigarettes. The girls paid for their cab and shuffled out, Harley forgetting about the radio report.

The girls only waited a couple minutes before being let into the club. It was a loud place, even from the outside. The ground seemed to vibrate under their feet as they passed through the door. There was a long dark hallway that opened into the bar area. There were several darkly dressed people hanging in and around the bar. Harley saw a girl sipping a neon green cocktail from a martini glass. The bar area overlooked the dance floor, where bodies dressed in black swayed back and forth.

"Drinks first?" Shelia asked, and the four girls found a spot at the bar. The bartender was a bald man, maybe forty or forty-five years old. He wore a black leather vest, exposing a chest tattoo of a grim reaper kissing a pin up girl. When the girls approached the bar, the man brightened up and looked the girls over.

"What'll it be?" the man asked, flashing the girls a smile full of yellow teeth.

"Gin and tonic."

"Vodka cranberry."

"Double whiskey, straight."

Harley smiled at the man before pointing to the girl on the other end of the bar. "Can I have whatever that green drink is that girl has?"

The bartender grinned again. "That's our house special. We call it the 'Fruit of Eden'. A couple of those and we'll have to carry you out of here." He said, smirking.

"Sounds great. One, please."

The girls carried their drinks to a table near the bar and clinked glasses. Tonya downed her whiskey plus a refill before Harley finished her green potion. It burned her throat and left a sugary aftertaste. She had one more glass before joining the girls on the dance floor.

It was all very surreal to Harley. Green lights flashed over her head as smoke surrounded her feet. A strobe light somewhere made her movements feel distorted and the music blasting in her ears sent her to a place where nothing mattered and all there is was dancing. Intoxicated and delirious, what felt like several hours passed before Harley returned to the bar area for another drink. She had lost her friends but didn't care. She figured they wouldn't wait up for her anyway.

A couple left the bar and she stumbled forward to take the available spot. Gripping the bar for support, Harley stabled herself and looked for the bartender.

"Hey there lady. Can I buy you a drink?" said a husky Irish voice to her left. Harley turned and made eye contact with a man, maybe thirty or so years old. He had a large frame with a dark orange beard that covered his chin and disappeared under a black beanie. He wore a thick, black pea coat that had some wear and tear and when he smiled, a silver tooth gleamed back at Harley. She thought he might be a fisherman or something. The docks were nearby after all.

It didn't take Harley long to make her mind over this guy. He intimidated her a little and part of her liked that, plus she could definitely listen to that accent all night. He was dirty, but Harley kind of liked that too, she just hoped he didn't smell like fish. So she decided that she would play along with this guy, see where it leads, as long as she didn't smell fish…

"Sure" she said and smiled.

* * *

Harley probably shouldn't have had another very alcoholic drink. Harley probably shouldn't have agreed to leave the club with this man after drinking said drink. And Harley really shouldn't have agreed to let this husky Irishman walk her home. But there was something so enticing about this man, and it wasn't that he had a sexy accent. She knew this was a very dangerous decision but she couldn't tear herself away and she was more curious than scared.

They had walked a couple blocks from the club when the man wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, their hips touching as they walked. Harley didn't mind, she had experienced worse at work. After another block passed the man slowly let his hand wander to her butt and groped it roughly, making Harley jump and step away from him.

"Hey!" she yelled and rubbed her backside.

"Whatever. You liked it." The man said and grinned, that silver tooth shinning at her. Harley stood still, frowning at the man but not responding.

"Oh come on girl." The man said and stepped towards her, getting close enough to touch. Harley supposed she should be intimidated, and part of her just wanted to give in and keep walking, but she didn't move. Instead, Harley stood her ground and stepped closer, her chest rubbing against his coat. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and something else. Or maybe it was his coat but he smelled…salty. Harley inhaled deeply, disregarding the pungent alcohol on her nostrils, and then she smelled it: _fish_. She smelled fish. Harley tried to hide her disgust. It isn't that she didn't like fish, but Harley made up her mind that she wouldn't continue based on the fact that he smelled of fish. It didn't have to make sense to Harley, but it did give her a reason to walk away from this guy who she now assumed was a creep.

"You smell bad. I'm going home alone." And with that, Harley spun on her heel and continued to walk.

"Oh no ye don't." the man said and grabbed her arm, jerking her back.

"Let go." Harley said, trying to release her arm. The man grabbed her other arm and dragged her backwards into the closest ally. Harley tried to wrangle free but the man pushed her up against a hard brick wall. The alcohol made her head spin and she slid to the ground, her back against the wall, which gave her the best opportunity to shoot her leg straight up, foot connecting with the man's crotch. The man swore and stumbled back, grabbing his crotch with both hands. Harley watched the man, her head still spinning. She staggered to her feet, using the wall for support.

"Bitch." The man swore, regaining his stance and coming at Harley again, this time slapping her hard across the face. She fell to the ground again, her hands and knees scraped by concrete.

"Excuu _uuuuuuu_ se me, sir." A third voice made the Irishman stop and turn. It was a peculiar voice. A voice that sent shivers down your spine and sprouted fear in your heart. The voice made Harley's ears perk up, although she still lay on the ground facing away from the new voice. As she propped herself up, she heard the Irishman speak up.

"Fuck o-" said what Harley thought was a sexy Irish tone just minutes before. He stopped in the middle of his sentence as he glanced at the intruder. A second of silence passed and the man shuffled backwards, almost falling over his own feet, joining Harley on the ground.

"Don't kill me." Spoke the Irish accent. "I didn't do anything!" his voice rose as he continued to back away. "I'm a nobody!" he nearly screamed, terror in his tone. Finally the man was far enough to turn and run down the opposite end of the ally, disappearing around the corner at the next street.

"I was just going to ask for directions." Said the mystery voice again, still there as Harley watched the man she left the bar with run away like a scared child. The mystery voice cackled a little, laughing at his own joke. Harley felt a strange sense of familiarity. Almost like déjà vu.

In the shadows of the ally, Harley turned over on the ground, facing her savior. It took her drunk and spinning mind a second to make out a man of average height and build. The street lamps cast a glow around the man so she couldn't see his face. His hair was a little on the long side, falling in front of his face and tucked behind his ears. She could tell just by his silhouette that his hair was unkempt. He was also wearing a coat, his hands stuffed in his pockets. She didn't understand why the Irishman ran away, this guy didn't even have a weapon.

The stranger stepped forward, towards Harley, and she rubbed at her eyes, trying to see past the angelic glare of the street lamps.

And that's when she saw it. His face.

His skin was painted, the areas around his eyes a rude black and a loosely painted red line stretching across his mouth, his elongated mouth. The rest of his face was as white as the lights behind him.

Harley screamed. She screamed not because of the horrid looking man before her, but because she recognized him. Instantly the past five or so years dissolved and she was back in high school, terrorizing local cops with air soft guns and breaking into convenience stores, cutting class and making out in the janitor closet. She remembered the night they had sex for the first time, the night that changed everything. She stopped screaming and gazed into the starving black holes that were his eyes for the first time in years.

"Harley?"


	14. A Dark Night

Okay party people, here's the necessary warning for this chapter: YOU WANTED SEX? HERE IS SEX

Yeah so, like any M rated fanfic, where's the sex? Here it is. So there's your warning.

I don't write too much of this so review, please! Tell me how I did!

Want some more good news? After a couple days I will be done with finals and can completely focus on my next chapters and boy to I have some treats for you!

Enjoy!

* * *

Harley awoke to bright lights searing her retinas. She winced and rolled over, hiding her face in a pillow, groaning. Her head was pounding and all she wanted was to go back to sleep. Why did she leave the light on before falling asleep anyway?

"Morning." Said a scratchy voice from the corner of the room.

Harley's eyes sprang open. Did she bring someone home last night? Her memory was fuzzy and she really didn't want to get out of bed, I mean who wouldn't want to leave silky sheets.

Wait. Silky sheets? She didn't have silky sheets. Her sheets were cheap and there were holes in her sheets from dropped cigarettes. She could've replaced them, but honestly it didn't bother her much.

Harley rolled over again and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Was it morning? Who did she go home with?

Harley sat up, looking down at herself. She was still wearing her work uniform skirt and that red top Shelia let her borrow. The silk sheets had been pulled around her and it was now that she realized they were black silk sheets. _How weird_ , she thought, _who has black sheets?_

"You never did like waking up in the morning." Said that scratchy voice from the corner of the room. Harley rubbed her eyes before looking at her caretaker. He was sitting in an armchair, his fingers lightly tapping on the armrest. The light that had blinded her before, she noticed, was a lamp pointed at her. She tried to make out his facial features, but her eyes burned from the light. She rubbed her eyes again.

"Sorry about the light." He said, pointing the light at the ground, giving the room a slight glow.

She could see his face now, shrouded in shadows. _So it wasn't a dream_ , thought Harley, as she took in every inch of his face. She could tell that he was still wearing makeup, the same as the night before, but she didn't care. She was more interested in how he'd changed. It had been years since she last saw him. They were still teenagers then.

Harley herself had grown a little taller, developed more, inside and out. Her mousy blonde hair had calmed down into platinum locks. She still woke up every morning with a bird's nest for hair, reminding her of the days when brushes were torture devices. Her face had matured too, and she had become familiar with makeup as well.

But his face hadn't just matured. Although it had only been about five years since she saw him last, he looked as if he aged a decade or two. She noticed instantly his scars, extending from his mouth. She knew the story behind his scars; she had been there after all. He had them painted red, along with the rest of his mouth. His eyes and the area around his eyes were black. The whites in his eyes stood out like a flashlight at the end of a dark tunnel. The white face paint that covered the majority of his face made the lines on his face stand out. Worry lines had begun to form on his forehead and laugh lines were well distinguished already. There also looked like a few fresher scars had taken residence on his face: a slash down his left cheek, a part of his eyebrow nicked, and his nose looked crooked, almost as if it had been broken and reset wrong. His whole face, painted and masked in shadows, reminded Harley of a smiley face. A dark, demented smiley face.

"Is there something on my face?" he asked and grinned big. She could see, now that he was grinning, that the scars extending his mouth made it so more of his teeth were visible than would a normal human smile. He really did remind her of a creepy clown. And she should have been afraid. She should have walked out the door then and there but then again, where was she? A part of her nagged at her to get up and leave, to run out and find her way home or even back to work. There were people there that could keep her safe. But was that what she really wanted, to feel safe? Harley had gotten in her fair share of trouble from doing the opposite of feeling safe. She worked at a mob spot, she let random men take her home, and she wasn't surprised to wake up in a stranger's bed. In the end, she wanted more. Why else would she still be wrapped up in black silk sheets, staring at a man she thought was long gone.

"Well, say something." He said and sat forward, his hands gripping the armrests.

"When did you get back to Gotham?" She blurted out, unsure what to say. The question startled him. He had been expecting something more typical or obvious like _what's up with your face_ or _where am I?_ Either way he was happy to answer. He sat back in his chair, holding his hands in front of his face, fingertips touching fingertips. He looked quizzical.

"Oh, a couple years ago or so." He said nonchalantly. He glared at Harley with his black eyes, waiting for another question. She stared back, unsure what to say next. She bit the corner of her lip nervously. Minutes of silence passed.

"I didn't know you became a screamer." He said, referring to when he saw her first.

"I'm not...you just surprised me. I didn't even know you were alive." She said hesitantly. She looked down at her hands, lying in her lap over the black sheets.

He snorted.

"What?" she asked, looking back up at him.

"Did you look for me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I…I didn't even think you'd come back here. I believed I would never see you again." She said, as if trying to explain herself. She had, in fact, looked for him. For months after he left she would frequent the spots they hung out at. She had gone to his apartment in the Narrows but it had been cleared out. She even went as far as asking Ed, the friend of his who had patched them up, where he went. He told her he didn't know anything and shut the door in her face. He cleared out too, not long after. When her dad's condition went from bad to worse, she stopped looking for him altogether. She didn't have the time and was more focused on moving on with her life than contemplating the past.

Harley sat in silence, staring at her hands again. They both accepted the silence for a while.

"Did…did you look for me?" she asked, almost whispering, still looking down. There was another period of silence before he moved in his chair. Harley looked up to see him moving the lamp, the one that had been pointing at the floor, casting shadows everywhere. He pointed it at the wall behind him. There on the wall was a newspaper clipping taped by the corners with scotch tape.

Harley hesitantly slipped out of bed and tip toed to the wall. The floor beneath her bare feet was cold and it sent shivers down her spine.

He watched her from his chair, as she slid out of the bed and walked around him to the wall. His eyes were glued to her, unable to look anywhere else.

The newspaper clipping had a big title in tall black letters: LOCAL FIRE TAKES BUILDING

Harley knew this newspaper article. She had seen it a thousand times. The black and white photo of the store foundation, ash littered everywhere, hung under the black letters. She knew this picture, except in her mind the ash was still smoking. She could still smell the burnt wood and hear the sirens. She had gone through a series of interviews: the cops, the insurance company, the press, neighbors and onlookers. She told them all the same story: she walked to the store from the trailer park like any morning.

"I could smell the fire before I saw it." She told the cops, with tears in her eyes. They had given her a blanket and a warm cup of coffee while she sat across from a man with a badge, writing down everything she said with complete credibility. The cops told her the fire broke out around four thirty in the morning, an hour before she would arrive to begin opening the store.

"I guess I taught you well." He said, suddenly standing behind her, a smile in his voice. The corners of Harley's mouth turned up slightly as she remembered the whole event. Everything had played out so nicely.

"You came to the city after that?" he asked, a whisper in her ear. She could feel his breath on her bare shoulder.

"I'm a waitress." She said quickly. He was standing close to her, almost touching. She had dreamt about this moment time and time again. Harley had configured a type of fantasy in her head of meeting him again, none of which she expected to come true. She had imagined he would show up at her door one day, out of breath from running up the eight flights of stairs to her apartment. He would knock twice and Harley would swing open her door. They would embrace each other and Harley would let herself cry tears of joy. She had imagined he looked the same as before, young and curious, devious and beautiful.

Harley turned to face him, seeing his face in the light for the first time. Her eyes wandered over his painted face, looking at the scars up close, admiring the makeup. Eventually she met his gaze, his eyes were already fixed on hers. She sunk into the familiarity of his enticing glare, relishing in the forgotten feeling they gave her.

She wanted to touch him, to make sure it wasn't all a dream. She lifted her hand to touch his face. Her fingers grazed his cheek, greasy with paint. He exhaled and closed his eyes as her fingers made contact with his skin. Her fingers slid down his cheek slowly, collecting paint and leaving dashes of skin. When her fingers reached the edge of his mouth, his scars, his eyes shot open and he quickly grabbed her wrist tightly. She gasped and their eyes met again. For the first time ever, she saw something different in his eyes. There was a spark. An entity of darkness she hadn't seen before.

He let go of her wrist and turned quickly, taking several steps away, his back facing Harley. She noticed that his head had dropped, his shoulders hunched. His whole body looked rigid and tense. He ran his hand through his unwashed hair several times. Harley thought she heard him whisper something. She stepped towards him slowly.

"No. _NO!_ " he said in an awful attempt of a whisper.

Harley continued to silently walk up to him. His mumbling continued although she couldn't make out what he was saying. Hesitantly, Harley reached out and placed her hand on his back. He spun around in an instant, grabbing her shoulders harshly and pulling her close to his face. He looked angry, his brows furrowed as he breathed heavily into her face. Harley noticed how his nose almost touched hers, despite how fuming he seemed or how hard he was squeezing her shoulders.

"You. Need. To leave." He said, looking as if he may explode. Harley was shocked. Leave? She had just found him after all this time. She looked at him questioningly. His eyes dashed back and forth across her face, waiting for her to show some sign of fear.

"Listen." He said, and took a long, hard breath, trying to calm himself. "I am not who I used to be. I'm…I'm…" he searched her face again for the right word, " _dangerous_." He said finally, spitting the word out from clenched teeth.

Harley knew that there had been a new underworld presence, she worked at a mob spot after all, but she hadn't known it was him they were talking about. She recalled Maroni throwing a glass several times, screaming something like, "That fucking clown", but she hadn't figured it was actually a clown. Or a guy that dresses up to look like a clown. She wasn't sure what all he had done to piss Maroni off, but it was becoming a more common problem.

"I don't care." She blurted out quickly. He grunted angrily and let go of her shoulders, turning away from her again but instead began pacing back and forth in front of her. He appeared to be trying to calm himself down yet also continued to mumble words under his breath. He let out an exasperated noise of annoyance and threw his hands in the air before turning back to Harley.

"I do bad things." He said sternly, glancing at her from under his crinkled brow, breathing heavily again but keeping his distance from her. "I hurt people. I _kill_ people." He said, hoping to spark fear into her.

Harley blinked and kept her face void of emotion. Deep down she knew who he had become. She wasn't surprised at all by his confession of murder.

When she didn't react the way he hoped, he grabbed her shoulders again and turned her to face the door. He bent his face down right next to her ear and she could hear the agitation in his warm, heavy breathing.

This time he whispered to her, "If you don't leave," He started and stopped to take a ragged breath. "You _will_ get hurt." He was talking again from clenched teeth, obviously trying to contain his rising anger.

Harley didn't move. Instead she had been focusing on his warm breath in her ear. He was so close she could smell him. There were faint scents of whiskey and cigarettes and an overall smell of gasoline. She took a deep breath, inviting his scent into her nostrils. To her, he smelled enticing. He smelled of danger and it was an immediate attraction.

He let out a loud and terrifying groan that snapped Harley from her trance. There was now something cold pressing up against her neck, something sharp poking into the underside of her chin. The knife against her throat surprised her, but Harley wasn't scared. Somehow she knew her life wasn't in any real danger. Although she hadn't seen this man in years, she automatically trusted him with her life, as stupid as it sounds. Adrenaline pumped through her veins yet she kept her body still. She took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose and exhaling carefully. She could feel the sharp point of the knife dig further into her skin when she exhaled. She was almost sure that the knife had punctured her skin but she ignored the pinch-like feeling coming from her throat.

"I could kill you." He whispered, the anger gone from his voice, replaced with a calm and dark tone. She was almost sure that his voice had dropped an octave or two. "All I need to do is flick my wrist. I've done it many times before." Harley knew he wasn't lying yet kept calm. He shifted the knife so the blade was pressing against her throat horizontally. "Feel that? That's your carotid artery." He said matter-o-fact. "One cut and you will bleed out all over the floor. No one will hear you scream." He growled, acid on the tip of every word that left his carved mouth, yet there was also a smile in his voice. He was enjoying this.

She couldn't help herself. Curiosity getting the better of her, Harley mumbled the words, "Is that a promise?"

Although he didn't move, she could tell he was taken aback. He had expected her to cry or beg for her life. She heard him chuckle. The knife was slowly taken away from her throat and he took a step back, now cackling. Harley turned to face him, watching him fight off a fit of giggles. She couldn't help but smile hearing his giggles transform into a full-fledged laughing fit. If anything was the same between the teenager she had fallen head over heels for and the man covered in face paint before her, it was the laugh. She didn't find his laugh creepy or eerie at all. If there was anything human about him, it was his laughter, high pitched and crazy like hearing the punch line of a great joke for the first time.

Flashes of him laughing passed through her mind: the two of them in class as high school students, him laughing at the dissection of a fetal pig in anatomy, him giggling when she figured out how to pick a lock on the first try, both of them laughing their asses off after leaving the Halloween Superstore, face paint decorating his face for the first of many nights.

When his giggles finally died down, she was left with this deranged serial killer selfishly staring into her soul. Her bones shivered but she wasn't scared. Instead, Harley was excited. Electricity sparked between the two and he stepped towards her, closing the gap between them with two long strides. They were so close, barely touching.

"You want a monster?" he said, cocking an eyebrow. "You've got one."

In an instant he pulled her face to his, hungrily, kissing her with a devouring dominance. She sunk into his hands, placed on either side of her face. Late nights falling asleep after crying her eyes out and days of ongoing stress melted from her mind and she fell into the oblivion of his kiss. She felt herself leaning into him, her chest rubbing up against his. She slowly let her arms crawl up his chest and around his shoulders, pulling herself to him. Her insides churned and sloshed around as a rising heat built deep within her.

He broke the kiss, and Harley was torn from her stupor. Dazed, she found his coal-colored eyes. The fire was back, but this time his lips formed a smile. An elongated, sinister smiled.

In a flash, his hands were at her sides. He lifted her small frame with ease, bringing her to his face this time. There was a slight height difference between the two: Harley stopped growing around 5'3 yet he towered over her, at least 6 feet tall. Harley wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling and their lips crashed against each other's again. He didn't wait for her, slipping his tongue hungrily around hers, exploring her mouth with a strange ferocity. He tugged and nipped at her bottom lip, rendering a slight moan from the back of Harley's throat.

She had been so wrapped up in their heated make out session that she didn't notice him moving towards the bed. Shocked when he dropped her onto the black silk sheets, Harley stared up at him with her own hunger, biting her lip. Shadows danced across his face, lustfully smiling down at her as he undid the buttons on his shirt one at a time.

When his shirt was unbuttoned, he didn't bother shrugging it off his shoulders. Instead he pounced on Harley, pushing his hands down on her forearms, locking her in place as they continued kissing. She could feel his weight on her, anchoring Harley to the bed. Something hard pressed up against her hip and she smiled, knowing full well that it was her doing.

His lips left hers, moving to her neck to nibble and peck at her pale skin. His cold lips trailed down to her neck until he found a spot in the crook of her neck. He paused here, circling his tongue around this area, sucking her skin and then…Harley yelped. He had bit her. His dirty teeth sunk into her unblemished flesh and Harley was sure he broke the skin. She would have recoiled had she not been pinned under him.

Then again, she never said no biting.

After leaving his mark on her shoulder, he trailed down further. Using his teeth again, he bit the edge of her red crop top and pulled it down, fully revealing her strapless, black lace bra. Harley whimpered and he looked up at her from swirling his tongue over her protruding cleavage.

"Please don't rip my bra." She whispered. Bras were not expensive, especially the pretty strapless ones that didn't leave her exposed. And if there was anything she hated more than a bra breaking, it was bra shopping.

He cocked his eyebrow and a smile spread across his face again, laying his head down on her chest, using one of her breasts as a pillow.

" _Ohhhh Harrrrrleyyy_." He said and cackled again. She could feel the vibrations on her chest. She realized then that this was the first time he had used her name. The words sent shivers down her spine and heat radiated throughout her body, the source being a place deep, deep down. She almost changed her mind and was about to speak up and say _fuck it, rip the bra_ , but he spoke first.

Speaking to her like she was a kid in a candy store, his words slipped out his lips, "I'll buy you all kinds of bras, cupcake." That being said, his hands left her forearms, and slipped under her, to the clasps digging into her back. With a flourish, the bra was undone and in seconds, was flung across the room.

Harley couldn't contain her noises as he quickly went to work on her bare breasts, lips sucking, tongue swirling in circles, teeth nipping at her most sensitive, but clearly yearning areas. With his lips on one side, his fingers played with the other, flicking the sensitive nub, making Harley whimper. After switching sides, Harley noticed that his hand was no longer at her chest but spider crawling downwards. After passing her navel, his fingers flattened on her stomach and slowly, every so slowly, slipped under the fabric of her skirt. Finding warm liquid already gathering in her underwear, he let out a noise that made Harley bite her lip again.

" _Mmmmmmmmm_. What do we have hear?" he said, and found her entrance, wet and warm. Without any warning, two fingers slipped inside her, curling around her insides. Harley tossed her head to the side, trying to keep her moans contained with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Clearly seeing her struggle to contain herself, he stopped moving his fingers. She pouted and moved her hips, trying to move them by herself. He laughed, watching her squirm on his fingers.

"Don't bite your lip, doll." He said with an odd calm. She saw a flame ignite in his expression and he narrowed his eyes before speaking again, his voice transforming from a general admiration to a diabolical hunger. " I want to _hear_ you _moan_."

Harley looked down her half-naked body at him, clearly waiting for her. Her eyes stuck on his, she slowly let her lip go from the constraints of her teeth.

" _Goooood_." He hummed. "If I see that lip being bit again…" he trailed off thinking and then smirked. "I'll just have to bite you again." This was enough to get Harley to keep her lips and teeth separated.

After spending a good amount of time making Harley audibly moan from his work with his fingers, he removed them from her. Covered in a gleaming liquid, Harley watched as his fingers left her and were brought to his mouth. He playfully licked his fingers and responded with satisfied noise.

Harley watched him closely, partially nervous yet excited for what would come next. After all, a decent amount of time had passed since they were last doing this. Not wanting to disappoint, his hands found the waistband of her skirt, looped his fingers around the inner fabric of her underwear, and pulled both items off at once, leaving her completely bare in front of him, a pale, white mark on the black, silk sheets.

Her mind flashed back to that night so many years ago. He was so clumsy then. Both of them were. She remembered how short it had lasted, the whole ordeal expanding twenty minutes maybe. It had been their first time, and she didn't even orgasm. Many partners later, Harley knew her way around the bedroom, however she never found that drawing attraction in any other partner but him. Despite now having sexual experience, she couldn't help feel like a teenager again, lying on the bed while he undid his belt and pants.

Feet on the ground by the bed, he grabbed her legs and pulled her body to the edge of the mattress. Standing between her, his legs locked her spread thighs in place. Then Harley felt it, his warm member pressing up against her.

"My turn." He said with a smirk and thrust into her without warning. Harley yelped and her brain muddled. A mix of shock and pleasure surged through her body. He continued moving his hips back and forth into her wildly until he sunk into a steady rhythm. Harley arched her back, pressing her hips into his. He grabbed her bucking hips and used her as leverage to thrust deeper and harder into her. Harley let loose the moans and groans, whimpers and other unnamed noises that left her mouth. The tension already built up within her, it didn't take too terribly long until she felt the familiar tensing of muscles followed by a shockwave of pleasure. She relished in the endorphin-releasing moment, but not for long.

Although he was aware what had happened, his pace didn't slow. Instead he slipped his hands under her arched back, pulling her torso up and to him. Hands around her waist to steady her, he did a sudden 180 so that he could sit on the edge of the bed, Harley straddling his lap. The quick motion that followed her orgasm caused her mind to glaze over. When the fog in her brain had cleared, she was already going to work, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced up and down. He buried his face in her chest, grease paint smearing all over her. With one hand still keeping her waist steady, he used the other hand to find one of her sensitive nipples again. He pinched the hard nub between two fingers and Harley threw her head to the side, responding with shrill gasps. Liking her reaction, he took it a step forward, pressing his mouth to the tip of her bobbing breasts. His teeth found the protruding nipple and he bit hard. In addition to the whimpers that left her mouth, she dug her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders. She thought she heard him growl but was too swept away in the passion of the moment.

The sweat that had accumulated throughout the whole ordeal made her finger nails slip from his back and instead of re-gripping she pushed his chest forward, down onto the bed. In this position she could feel the full length of him inside her. She noted that he had grown an inch or two since their teenage years, something she was not upset about in any way. He was well endowed, that she knew, but not unnecessarily big. Just the right size, she thought.

He clasped his hands together behind his head, sitting back to watch her.

Hands pressed against his abdomen to keep her upright, she moved herself so that she could ride him properly. He watched her bob up and down, her chest bouncing and covered in grease paint.

After letting her have her fair share of fun, he flipped her over so that he was once again on top. She wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him completely control the speed of fucking.

He rested his weight on her as he continued thrusting, his lips finding her neck again, nipping and sucking a trail upwards to her mouth. Already feeling the shockwave ripple through her body again, her nails grasped for skin to sink into. Feeling her tip over the edge once more, he sped up his rhythm. Harley's vision hazed over and she held on to him for what felt like dear life.

Finally his thrusting slowed and he plunged into her slower and slower until she felt him go still and a flush of warm liquid escaped inside her.

Breathing heavily, they both collapsed onto the black, silk sheets. Drunk with sex, they both panted, staring up at the ceiling. Harley noticed there was a dinky fan spinning round and round above them. The fan made a buzzing sound every couple seconds, as if a screw was loose, the sound echoing in their ears.

She let her head drop to the side to stare at him. The grease paint from his face was partially wiped off and she could now make out what his face looked like without the makeup. He was truly beautiful, a matured version of the boy she fell in love with. Although red paint was buried into the crevices of his scars, she could tell what they looked like minus the makeup. Weirdly, she thought he looked normal with the scars, as if it was just a part of his face like a mustache or a wrinkle. She couldn't imagine his face without them now. With the image of his scars in her mind, she let the exhaustion creep over her, falling asleep next to a known murderer and sociopath. But then again, she just willingly fucked this crazy clown. She _enjoyed_ it.

Before drifting off, Harley asked herself a question that would plague her, that is, until she came to find the answer:

 _Am I crazy too?_

* * *

(Author's note)

Thanks for reading my story so far! I appreciate the reviews, likes, and follows more than you know! Don't be afraid to PM me if you got any ideas you wanna share with me, I love feedback!

Proceeding on: Now that we are finally in more of the present, I want to express my thoughts on my portrayal of the Joker. My main influences come from, of course, TDK's Heath Ledger performance, and Gotham's 'Jerome' played by Cameron Monaghan (anyone else ecstatic about his return?). I will also be crossing parts of TDK and Gotham within this story. Look for some familiar moments from the movie and show, as well as my own stuff. I will also be involving the gangs of gotham, as we have already seen with the introduction of Maroni, because I think this isn't a widely explored area outside the TV show. That being said, there are maaaaany discrepancies in the history of Batman so if I do get anything wrong, let me know!

That is the end of my spiel so have a great day, ya know, cause all it only takes one bad day! :D


	15. The Morning After

**Heyo! Sorry this took longer than I thought!**

 **Well, for everyone who likes Eddy, he's back! Also, get ready for some more fun in the next chapters! Plans are in motion! :)**

 **Well enjoy these words I wrote for you!**

* * *

A door closed and Harley twitched awake. A dinky fan making a buzzing noise came into focus. Groaning, Harley turned over on her side and shivered. She reached for covers and found them bunched up at her feet. Pulling a mass of black silk sheets over her shoulders, Harley curled up in a little ball and attempted to drift back into dreamland. A shout from somewhere in the distance pulled her away from sleep and she audibly groaned again. Another shout. Then another.

Harley's eyes shot open angrily. "Fine! I'm up!" she announced to no one in particular. Listening closer, she noticed the shouting was something outside, someone yelling, " _Come on! Let's go! Move it!"_

Sitting up in the bed, Harley looked around the room. The walls were crudely painted grey and in many places papers had been taped, pinned, or nailed to the walls. Some of the papers might have been blueprints, others looked like cartoon doodles. A chair and a side table sat looking at the bed and the events of the night before crawled into her mind. To the left of the bed was a very messy desk with a chair pulled up next to it. Stacks of paper leaned on little bottles of paint and a cup of brushes, sitting next to what looked like the guts of a computer and… _are those Legos?_

There were two doors in the room, one to the right of the bed and one across from the bed. The wall to the right of the bed had big wide windows, like it was a room to overlook something, but the windows were painted over in that same grey. No one could look out, but no one could look in either. The wall to the left of the bed had a smaller window, also the only source of light in the room, other than the desk lamp still pointing at a certain newspaper clipping, one of many things hanging on the wall.

The light outside suggested that morning had passed. Harley slipped off the edge of the bed and wrapped black silk sheets around her naked body. It didn't bother her that she woke up naked, it wasn't like there was anyone to see her, but she did wonder where her clothes went. Scanning the room, she noticed a small stack of neatly folded clothes on the chair across from the bed. On the side table next to the chair was a to go cup of coffee and a white paper bag.

First, Harley pattered over to the window. Looking through the dull glass, she saw a loading dock for a pretty decently sized warehouse. Two beat up vans pulled away from the loading dock and disappeared around the corner. She put her hand on the window, feeling a chill. It was in the colder months of the year, but Gotham was still waiting on its first snowfall of the season.

Harley turned away from the window and decided to first check the two doors. The one she thought would be the exit, the door next to all the painted over windows, was locked. She wiggled and pulled on the door nob before pouting and crossing her arms. _Fine then._

Turning away from the locked door, she found the other door, thankfully, led to a bathroom. She flipped the light switch and peeked into the bathroom. She was surprised to see that it wasn't entirely covered in dirt and grime. The toilet had a ring around the inside and the sink was questionable but there was a shower with limited nastiness. It may not be as clean as her bathroom in her apartment but it wasn't unusably gross.

Deciding to come back to the bathroom later, Harley dragged her mess of silk sheets to the chair and side table where her clothes were neatly folded. She picked up the coffee on the side table and opened the lid. Steam rose to her face and she inhaled the familiar scent of the coffee. She sipped at the dark liquid and a smile came to her lips. Someone had put a ton of sugar, but no cream in her coffee. Just the way she liked it.

Taking another sip of the warm and sugary beverage, Harley picked up the white paper bag. She peeked inside and saw a little cardboard box. _Allergy pills?_

She reached into the bag, pulled out the box, and instantly snorted. She hadn't expected him to be someone who cared about this type of thing. Thanking her previous self for taking precautions to avoid exactly this, she set the box of emergency contraceptives down on the side table.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Harley trotted over to his desk, her coffee in one hand and the other holding up her sheet dress. His desk looked like an ISpy book, completely covered in random knick-knacks and toys, paints and papers. Find the blueprint of Gotham Federal Bank.

Harley perused the many things hanging on the wall until she had finished her coffee. Feeling a bit energized, Harley tossed the mess of sheets back onto the bed, grabbed the pile of clothing, and skipped into the bathroom. Harley turned the nob in the shower and felt freezing cold water. Standing outside the shower to let the water warm up, she caught her reflection in the dirty mirror hanging above the sink. Her hair was an obvious mess. A bird's nest of bright blonde hair haloed her face. But it was her neck that drew her eye. Firstly, there was a clear bite mark in the crook of her neck. She leaned her head to the side and gently grazed the mark with her fingertips. Then she saw the small cut under her chin. A tiny smudge of dried blood decorated the tiny cut. There were also several bruises decorating her neck and she couldn't be sure if some of them were actually bruises or just hickeys. Harley looked down at her naked body. Although her skin was naturally pretty pale, it wasn't hard to notice the smeared white paint, dried on her chest.

At some point during the night-or maybe it had been morning-Harley woke to the wonderful feeling of her deranged high school sweetheart nuzzling at her chest. After another loud and energy-draining round, Harley had fallen back asleep. Now she was taking a shower in _his_ bathroom, in _his_ room, at _his_ hideout. What terrified most anyone exhilarated her, and she relished in her position.

Harley tested the acoustics of the shower by singing some song she heard recently. After scrubbing herself clean, she stood under the falling water, letting the warmth sooth her muscles. She wondered how her life would change, now that he was back in her life. It still didn't feel entirely real, as if she was waiting to wake up from a dream. She fantasized about him moving in with her and waking up every morning to eat breakfast and drink coffee before heading off to a normal job. It wasn't a fitting fantasy, so she tried imagining moving in to his little room with black sheets and a mess of a desk. _This place would need a touch up_ , she thought, _too dark. And where would I put my clothes?_

Her fantasy lasted until the shower water became too cold to stand under. She took her time drying off and getting ready.

Harley dressed herself in the clothes she had worn the night before. Her clothes had not been washed, and she smelled spilled alcohol on her shirt, but she had no other clothing options. After slipping on the short uniform skirt, she noticed that her cell phone was still in her pocket. It was a dinosaur of a phone, a tiny little flip phone that she primarily used for what few calls she received. There was no point in upgrading phones since she didn't have many people to talk to. Harley made it a habit to avoid making serious friends. She had acquaintances but never really a friend to confide in, or at least not someone to stay up texting all night. She checked for any messages, found none, and put the phone back into the skirt pocket.

Walking back into the bedroom, Harley gasped and nearly fell over at the sight of _him_ standing still near the room entrance, waiting for her. He was wearing the same coat from the night before, a dark purple coat with dark smudges, a couple tares, and a few loose strings hanging off several hemlines. His shirt underneath looked like a green silk material, and stood out against the dark purple coat. He was somewhat hunched over, his ears at his shoulders. Unkempt green-tinted locks fell in front of his freshly painted face, covering his eyes. When he saw her, however, his body straightened and a smile slowly stretched across his face. A feeling crept into Harley, making her feel like a bug trapped in a spider web.

" _Harrrrrleeyyyy_." He called, slithering her name out of his mouth as if his tongue was a snake. He stretched his arms out to her and she felt her feet moving herself towards him. He collected her in an embrace, hugging her to him. Harley relaxed and took a deep breath, inhaling smells of explosions and chemicals. She felt energized with his arms around her, brave even. When he broke the hug and stepped away, Harley was smiling. His gloved finger found a stray lock of blonde hair and he wrapped it around his finger, twirling the strand until it slipped away. His eyes focused on hers and he pointed a finger at Harley. "You have great timing, dear." He spoke, almost singing. "Plans are in motion. The stage is set." His tone grew more excited. "Gotham will never be the same." He started laughing and stopped abruptly. "And now I get to share it all with you." His smile stretched as far as she thought was possible. "We are going to have _so_ much fun together." He licked his lips and then crushed his against hers. Harley's head spun. She had a million questions yet wanted more than anything to keep kissing him. His gloved hands slid down her arms, from her shoulders down to her elbows and then moving to her sides, down her waist to rest on her hips. Her skin tingled and an energy began building inside her. He pulled her hips towards him, and she pressed her body against his. He started toying with her shirt when…

 _RIIINNGGG RIIINNNGGG_!

Harley jumped at the noise. An annoyed growl came from his mouth upon interruption. It took her a second to realize the noise was coming from her back pocket. She pulled her flip phone out of her pocket quickly and read the screen. She looked up at him. To her surprise, he was waiting patiently.

"It's…work." Harley said and frowned. He raised his eyebrows and gestured for her to take the call. She flipped the phone open and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone.

"Harley? Is that you?" Harley recognized the voice of one of the fellow waitresses at the restaurant.

"Yes. It's me!" Harley tried to avoid his dark staring eyes fixated on her.

"Where are you? You were supposed to be here two hours ago! Maroni just got here and he is not happy. You're his favorite waitress. You aren't afraid of him. Get down here!" she said, and then, because she wasn't Harley's boss, added, "please?" All of Harley's real life responsibilities surfaced in her mind and she mentally kicked herself for forgetting about work. Harley had only once skipped out on work and it had been because of the flu. She was proud of her punctuality. She surprised her coworkers sometimes, showing up for a shift the day after a night of drinking, totally unfamiliar to a hangover.

"I'll be right there!" Harley said apologetically.

"Please hurry!" the waitress said desperately. The line clicked and Harley closed the phone. She stared at the phone for a second before slipping it back into her back pocket. When she looked up at him, his head was cocked to the side, his eyes peering into her.

"I have to go." Harley said suddenly.

He frowned and looked away. The scars on his mouth made his frown even more accentuated. He pulled something out of his pocket and Harley realized it was a phone. He punched a couple buttons and then put the phone back into his coat pocket. She figured he would be mad. She braced for something bad to happen but he stood still, unmoved. They sat in silence for a minute and then there was a nock on the door. He turned on his heel in a swift movement and strode over to the door. He opened the door a crack and mumbled some words to whoever was on the other side. Harley tried to peek, to catch a glimpse of anything, but couldn't.

Before closing the door, he took something from whoever was on the other side. When he turned around and started walking back over to her, she could see that the object was an empty dark bag. Panic sprouted within her as he approached her, the bag in one hand.

"The doctor will take you where you want to go." He exhaled sadly, fiddling with the bag. He lifted his gaze to her. Something mischievous sparked in his eyes. "I'm going to like this." He said with a devilish grin. "A lot more than you will."

He moved to put the bag over her head. Harley shifted into fight-or-flight mode and backed away. Her instincts told her to run but the only exit was behind him. Ideas rushed through her mind. _The window? He's not that stupid. The bathroom? Dead end. Try and run around him? You aren't that stupid._

With no clear exit, Harley turned to fight. _Surely he wouldn't kill me with a bag just for wanting to leave…?_

Her back brushed up against a wall. Harley raised her fists protectively and he raised an eyebrow. His mouth twisted into a smile as he took slow steps towards her, knowing he had her cornered.

"Sweetheart, we don't have time to play. You have to go to work, remember?" His voice was gentle, yet playful, but his grin screamed danger.

She swung at him, aiming for his face, but he dodged her fist easily, grabbing her wrist before she could pull it back. He pulled her to him by her wrist. When she was close enough he snapped a long arm around her arms and squeezed her to him. Her face pressed up against his chest and she tried to move her arms but his arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides and her front to him.

He pulled the bag over Harley's head with his other hand. Rough fabric rubbed against her face. Anger boiled within her and she tried stepping on his feet and kicking at his legs. She could hear his cackles as she fought against him. Finally her leg connected with something and she heard a grunt followed by more laughter.

"Do that again!" He yelled, followed by menacing giggles. She kicked in the same direction as before and made contact again. He wheezed and squeezed her tighter. Before she could attempt to kick him again, Harley felt a hard impact on her head. He had hit her over the head with something hard. Her vision blurred and she leaned into him, her head erupting in a splitting pain. He let go of her and she sunk to her knees. She thought she would pass out. Everything was dark and she couldn't be sure if it were that her eyes were closed or because something was obstructing her vision. Her mind melted in her head and she wondered what he had hit her with.

"There we go." He cooed and bent down to pick her up. Feeling his hands creep up around her back, she tried to wriggle away with what little consciousness she had left. He easily swooped her up and held her against his chest like a child.

" _Shhhhhhhhh_." He whispered gently next to her covered head.

Under the bag, Harley frowned. She could hear a heartbeat but wasn't sure if it was her own, ringing in her ears, or if it was her ear pressed up against his chest. Despite having just tried to evade him, Harley curled up against him, trying to soak up every bit of his warmth. Although her head ached terribly and she knew it was his fault, she couldn't escape the feeling that everything was okay now that she was in his arms. It didn't take long before her frown slowly shifted to a little smile.

The bag gave Harley no visibility to her surroundings. He took her out of the room she had spent the night in and down a flight of stairs. She could hear talking nearby but couldn't make out what was being said. He walked past the noise and soon the only thing she could hear was his footsteps and a heartbeat. After a couple minutes of more walking, a cold gust of air rushed at Harley and she figured they were outside.

The sound of a car door opening snapped Harley's mind back to the present and the haze in her mind slowly lifted. He was moving her now, into the seat of a car. Gaining a bit of her strength back, she looked around, still blinded by the bag. He had let go of her.

"Jack?" She asked, wanting to confirm he was still there. She heard a long and distressed sigh. A hand pulled the seatbelt across her body and clicked it in place.

"Don't worry, doll face." He whispered against the bag. "You'll be back." And with that the car door slammed and the vehicle began to move.

Endless minutes passed while different scenarios raced through Harley's mind. Lost in her thoughts once again, it was a different familiar voice that broke her current train of thought.

"You can take the bag off now."

Realizing that her hands were never actually bound, she quickly pulled the bag off her head. She was sitting in the passenger seat of an old van. It could have been one of the vans she saw earlier from the window in his room. She noticed that they were on a main road somewhere near the west docks, south of the Narrows, maybe a twenty-minute drive to the restaurant. The next thing she noticed was the driver.

"Eddy?" She asked, leaning towards him. It was clearly the same guy she had met on that dreadful night years before, yet he had aged a bit.

Glasses perched high on his nose and dark brown hair neatly brushed back, he kept his eyes fixed on the road. After hearing his name, his eyes darted towards her and then back to the road.

"Don't call me that." He snapped. "Ed or doctor."

Something in his tone warned Harley to not pry. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Ms. Quinnzel was it?" he asked, keeping his gaze straight. His tone seemed to have relaxed. She treaded carefully.

"Actually it's Quinn now." She said, watching cars pass by outside. "I changed it after my dad passed." He didn't respond. The awkward silence grew and Harley shifted uncomfortably.

"Where am I going?" he asked and Harley looked at him questioningly.

"What?" She replied, confused.

"You need to be somewhere, right? Where am I going?" he asked again, with an added annoyance in his voice.

"Oh. Right. Work. It's…" Harley almost spit out the name of Maroni's restaurant, but held her tongue. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together from what she had overheard by waiting on mob bosses. The man she had just spent the night with, and the man she worked for, were not on the same side. She decided to be as vague as possible.

"On the corner of Chestnut and 22nd is fine." She said. It was 2 blocks away from the restaurant and in an area of high foot traffic. Ed just nodded and took a left.

A minute went by before Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out a white little bottle and handed it to her.

"Here" He said and tossed the bottle into her lap. Harley picked up the bottle and looked at the label. Aspirin. "For your head." Ed added. The dull aching in her head urged her to take a couple pills from the bottle.

"Thanks." She murmured awkwardly. They were at least halfway to the restaurant. She had millions of questions but didn't know where to start. _Where had he been? What were they up to? How would she see him again?_

Words swam around her mind and she struggled on how to break the silence.

"What's your plan, Ms. Quinn?" Ed spoke, a professional seriousness to his tone. She raised an eyebrow and turned to him.

"My plan? What do you mean?" She asked, innocently. She noticed a twitch in Ed's mouth.

"You appear out of the blue at a time like this? I must assume you are working for someone. Who is it? What do they want?" His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Harley stuttered. Technically she was working for the enemy but not how he thought. She had no ulterior motive. The events of the night before had been random and unexpected. She didn't even know her former high school boyfriend was alive until the night before.

"I'm just a waitress." Harley murmured. "I was out at bar nearby and then all of a sudden I was…he was there and now I'm here." She shrugged. Everything happened so fast and she was still processing it all. What she knew for sure: the only guy she had every felt genuine feelings for had reappeared in her life after years apart and… _and what?_ _He's a bank robber? A crime boss? A murderer? He said he was dangerous…_

Harley figured she should feel some pang of guilt for sleeping with someone who admitted to killing people, but her lips turned into a smile instead. There was a thrill to it all that she enjoyed. After all, she had seen people killed before and it hadn't bothered her.

"What do you mean, 'a time like this'?" Harley asked, her blue eyes watching Ed closely. Ed turned to give her a stern and silent look, then refocused on the road. "Okay then." She said, realizing that was probably a stupid question to ask in the first place. She chewed threw her thoughts and tried another question. "What happened after…after that night?"

Ed's face softened. He let out a long sigh before turning his face to meet hers.

"What killed the cat, Ms. Quinn?" The riddle didn't need a response. Harley figured it was best to keep her mouth shut for the remainder of the ride.

After about five minutes and an extremely awkward silence, Ed spoke again.

"Listen. I don't know what you plan on doing by coming back into his life. I don't know if you are working for someone or just got lucky…or unlucky. You seem like a nice, smart girl so do yourself a favor and forgot all of this ever happened. Move somewhere warmer, find a boring guy and settle down far away from here. It's better that way." He kept his eyes fixed on the road until he finished speaking. Then gave Harley another ugly look.

Harley pouted. Ed was a jerk. She opened her mouth to say exactly that when the van stopped and the lock on her door clicked open. They had arrived at the corner of Chestnut and 22nd. She opened her door and slid out the passenger seat. She tried to think of something witty to say before closing the door but couldn't make up her mind. Instead she stuck her tongue out at Ed, made a "hmpff" noise, and slammed the car door shut, stomping away angrily before she could see his reaction.

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